


A Holly Jolly Christ-Mess

by moodyvalentinestories (moodyvalentine)



Series: ♡ Rachel Fields x Thomas Hunt ♡ [14]
Category: Hollywood U: Rising Star
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, I don't like Christmas and it shows, No Thomas didn't rape anyone obvs, Past Rape/Non-con, Teacher-Student Relationship, but he is being an idiot in general so prepare for that I guess, but there's some Christmas-themed fluff here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 29,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21632908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moodyvalentine/pseuds/moodyvalentinestories
Summary: Rachel and Thomas plan to spend their first Christmas together! But what's that? Something (or, well, someone) is threatening their happiness? Oh no...
Relationships: Thomas Hunt/Main Character, Thomas Hunt/Original Character(s), Thomas Hunt/Rachel Fields
Series: ♡ Rachel Fields x Thomas Hunt ♡ [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1493831
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Soon

**Author's Note:**

> I know this one isn’t quite Christmas-themed yet, but December has just started.
> 
> Also, I plan to make this a 24-Part-Series. As in, one new part every day until Christmas! Merry Almost-Christmas, I guess.

For the first time in years, she actually looked forward to Christmas. Not because she was particularly excited about the holidays but rather because she would get to spend them with Thomas, far away from everyone else. And not _just_ the holidays, either, but the entire week.

It was still hard to believe he’d agreed to the trip. What wasn’t quite as surprising, though, was that he’d taken over planning the moment she’d told him about it. Which, in all honesty, Rachel was grateful for. She’d never planned a trip before, at least not on her own, and she was fairly sure that he was far more qualified to do it. That, of course, didn’t mean that she didn’t have a surprise or two in store for him. After all, this had been _her_ idea.

But all that was still a few days away. Four lectures, two essays, and one short film project away, to be exact. And there she’d hoped the professors would be more lenient in the last week before Christmas. That, very clearly, wasn’t the case. Especially not for a certain boyfriend of hers, who was responsible for two of those assignments.

She was knee-deep in research for her essay on the innovative cinematic techniques used in Citizen Kane when he called. She debated ignoring him – this was his fault, after all – but she’d been working since the moment she got back to her dorm, and she desperately needed a break. So she picked up. After letting the phone ring a couple more times, naturally.

“Oh, good, you _do_ answer calls. I was beginning to wonder whether you only used your phone to live-tweet during lectures,” Hunt said as soon as the call went through.

Rachel nearly let out a chuckle at his annoyance. She knew he hated when she kept him waiting, but _she_ hated when he assigned too much work. “Hello to you, too. And, for the record, I only did that _once_. It was an interesting lecture, my followers deserved to hear about it, too!”

“Ah, yes, and the part about my _sexy ass jawline_ was absolutely crucial, was it?”

“It was,” she said. “But I’m sure you didn’t call me to discuss something that happened _ages_ ago.”

“How very astute,” he said snippily. His next words, though, were spoken in a much softer tone. “I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to come over for dinner. I’m making Carbonara, and—”

“I can’t,” Rachel said with a dramatic sigh, flopping down onto her bed. “One of my asshole professors decided to give us two assignments this week. Two!”

“If I recall correctly, one of those assignments was given out _last_ week. Perhaps you shouldn’t blame your professor but your poor time management.”

She huffed. “If _I_ recall correctly, my professor is the _reason_ I didn’t get started on it last week. Ring a bell?”

He remained quiet for a moment, and she began to worry that he’d hung up on her. “Thomas?”

“Just come over, Rachel. You can work here.”

She let out a quiet groan. She never could resist him. Especially not when the alternative was as unappealing as sitting in front of her laptop by herself, eating an only partially heated microwave dinner. “Fine.”

And less than half an hour later, she was at his door, laptop case in one hand and overnight bag in the other. She _was_ going to finish this damn essay, but she was also reasonably certain that she would not be going back home after. Somehow, she never did, even if they’d both agreed she should.

With some effort, she managed to ring the doorbell using her elbow. Merely seconds after, Thomas opened the door.

He raised an eyebrow upon seeing her bags. “I thought you had work to do?”

“And I thought _you_ told me I could work here,” she said as she let him take her bags from her and stepped into the foyer, quickly closing the door behind her before any nosy neighbours could see. “I _do_ plan on finishing that essay tonight.”

“I’m sure your professor will be very happy with you tomorrow,” he said as he put her bags down on the console table, then turned to Rachel, who’d already stepped closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck as his fell to the curve of her hips. “And today, too, it appears.”

She got onto her tiptoes, letting her lips brush against his lightly. “Just shut up already.”

Thomas gladly obliged, kissing her deeply, pulling her closer, until they were both breathless.

“I can’t wait until I’ve got you all to myself,” he eventually said, eyes still closed as they stood in his foyer with their foreheads pressed together.

She smiled. “Just three more days.”

“Four,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t think we’ll see much of each other on Saturday.”

He hated that they couldn’t take the same flight, but it would have been far too risky. Especially with it being the very first day of the Christmas break, and luck never quite being on their side, someone would probably see them together.

“We’ve survived longer times apart,” she said and gave him a quick kiss. He leant in again, wanting more, but she just grinned at him. “Nuh-uh. I believe you promised me dinner.”

Thomas let out a chuckle. “It should be ready in about ten minutes. Why don’t you put your things away while I check on the food?”

“Will do,” she said and tried to move past him, but he held her in place. “What—” He was looking at her expectantly and she rolled her eyes, though with a smile, before kissing him again. He made sure it was a longer one this time, and she certainly wasn’t going to complain. A content sigh escaped his lips and he held her close for a few more seconds before eventually letting her go.

“Rachel,” Thomas said as she picked up her bags. She turned to look at him with one eyebrow raised questioningly. “My dresser, top left drawer. I freed it up for you.”

Her lips curled into a smile again as she felt a warm sensation in her chest. _A drawer at his place. _“So you _do_ like having me around, huh?”

“Ah, yes, I’m sure I must have given you the impression I wanted nothing to do with you when I asked you over.” He was joking, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried that he didn’t do enough to show her just how much he wanted her in his life.

Rachel, of course, knew about that particular concern of his. She would have dropped her bags then and there to run back into his embrace but they were interrupted by the hissing sound of water on a hot surface. Thomas cursed under his breath.

“Go, check on your pasta,” she said with a light chuckle. “I’ll stash my things away and be right back.” She started to walk towards his room but stopped to turn to him again after just a few steps. “Thank you, Thomas. I love you.”

He smiled, knowing he would never tire of hearing her say those words. Or saying them himself. “I love you, too.”


	2. Draw Me In

Thomas smiled to himself as he leant against the doorframe, watching Rachel contentedly place the contents of her bag in the drawer he’d given her. It had been freed up for some time now, but he’d never quite found the courage to tell her. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, he thought, as it was just a matter of being practical. She’d spent many nights at his place already, and she’d – hopefully – spend many more. It made sense for her to keep some essentials there so she wouldn’t have to bring them every time.

But it meant more than that. At least to him it did, and if her reaction earlier was any indication, it did to her, too. And if Thomas was being completely honest with himself, that had scared him. What if she’d thought it was too soon? What if he’d been wrong to think they were on the same page about their relationship?

Luckily, that didn’t seem to be the case. She’d accepted his offer enthusiastically, and Thomas couldn’t have been happier as he watched her close the no-longer-empty drawer and turn around.

“Thomas!” she exclaimed with a start when she saw him. “How long have you been standing there?”

He chuckled as he took a few steps towards her. “Not long. I came to tell you that dinner is ready.”

“I… uh… I didn’t mean to take so long,” Rachel said as a blush crept upon her cheeks. She’d taken her sweet time finishing up, savouring every second of this moment. But, surely, Thomas would have thought it ridiculous if she’d told him that. It was just a drawer, after all.

He gave her one of those smiles she loved so much before pulling her into his embrace and kissing her deeply.

“Take all the time you need. I _want_ you to feel welcome here, Rachel,” he said, resting his forehead against hers. “Understood?”

“Understood,” she replied, unable to keep the grin off her face. She kissed him again. “But… I think you mentioned something about dinner?”

Thomas groaned. “I’m starting to think you’re only with me because of my cooking abilities.”

“Hmmm… no.” She shook her head, giggling. “You’ve got other abilities that I’m _quite _fond of.”

“Such as?”

She leant up to brush her lips against his. “You’re a pretty good kisser.”

“Mhhh, I suppose I am,” he hummed and, as if to demonstrate, met her in a kiss that stole every rational thought from her mind. Her eyes were still closed for a while after Thomas had pulled back, and a content smile occupied her lips. “I do believe you had the right idea about dinner, though. Wouldn’t want it to get cold, would we?”


	3. More Wine

“I suppose wine isn’t the best idea if you plan to work on your essay later,” Thomas said as he carried two plates of pasta into the dining room, where Rachel was already pouring some of the Pinot Grigio he’d put on the table earlier into their glasses. “Rachel!”

She chuckled and set the bottle down on the table again before turning around. “Half a glass won’t kill me. I’m not _that_ much of a lightweight.”

“Mhm. I believe that’s what you said before you came up with that ridiculous idea to include _robots _in your perfume commercial,” Thomas chuckled as he placed their plates on the table.

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have you know that Professor Sanchez absolutely _loved_ the idea.”

“I’m sure,” Thomas said and pulled out her chair for her. “But _I’m_ not Professor Sanchez.”

“Yeah, I know. Your classes are a lot less fun,” she grumbled as she sat down, taking in the delicious scent of the food in front of her. “Then again, he’s never made Carbonara for me.”

Thomas huffed as he took a seat across from her. “The man can’t even cook. He’s brought what I can only assume was _supposed_ to be tapenade to a faculty meeting once. It was absolutely horrendous.”

“You know I’m just joking, right? Your classes are my favourite,” Rachel assured him with a grin. “Though that may have something to do with the fact that I quite enjoy looking at you. Especially that jawline.”

He didn’t mean to smile, but he couldn’t help it. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So I’ve been told. By you, mostly,” she said and lifted her glass to clink it against his. “To us. And a quiet Christmas, for once.”

“I would hope not _too_ quiet.” Thomas chuckled as their glasses met. “Not that you could ever be.”

She felt her cheeks heat up at the comment, and she quickly raised her glass to her lips in an attempt to cover her blush. Of course, it was futile. Thomas definitely noticed.

“Just so you know, that was _not_ a complaint.”

Her blush intensified. “Thomas—”

He let out another laugh, shaking his head slightly. “As much as I love to see you flustered, I believe we shouldn’t let our food get cold.”

“Oh, thank God,” Rachel muttered under her breath before digging in. As per usual, the meal tasted heavenly.

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, but there was one question that had been plaguing Thomas for nearly a week now and though he’d told himself he’d wait until after dinner, he simply couldn’t keep it in anymore. “Are you sure your family won’t mind that you’re not spending the holidays with them?”

Rachel nearly choked on her food. “What?” She coughed a couple times and Thomas moved to get up, but she stopped him with a dismissive hand motion as she composed herself again. “Are you… having second thoughts about the trip?”

“No. God, no,” he said and took a large gulp of his wine. He wanted nothing more than to spend time alone with her, away from everyone. Still… “But you hardly get to see them and—”

“There’s a _reason_ for that,” she replied dryly. “And it’s _not_ the distance between here and home.”

He let out a sigh. He knew a thing or two about being on less-than-ideal terms with family, and he knew how painful that could be. It wasn’t what he wanted for her, though, of course, that wasn’t exactly in his control. “I’m not saying you _have to_ visit them, but if you chose to do so, we could postpone our—”

“Absolutely not,” Rachel interrupted him. She downed the rest of her wine and reached for the bottle, but Thomas was faster. He pulled it away, giving her a disapproving look. She huffed. “Either way, I’m done talking about this.”

“Rachel—”

“I said I’m _done_, Thomas. Just accept it.”

To his own surprise, he did. At least for now, he wasn’t going to press her on the issue any further. Though he did feel a little sting at her unwillingness to talk to him about her family. Then again, he’d never talked to her about his own – all she knew was that he wasn’t close with most of them. Which, actually, was exactly as much as he knew about hers.

“Okay,” he said eventually. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.” He wasn’t, really. Though he _was_ sorry for upsetting her. It was the last thing he’d wanted to do when he’d asked.

She gave a half-hearted smile. “Thank you. Now, give me that wine.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “Your essay?”

“Oh my God, will you shut up about my essay?” she said, a more genuine smile taking over her features. “I swear, you’re going to regret being overly concerned with it later.”

He chuckled, then held out his hand for her glass. “I’ll pour you _some_.”

“How much is some?” she asked, handing him the glass nonetheless.

He filled just under a quarter of it before giving it back to her.

She rolled her eyes. “Why did I agree to come over again? You’re no fun.”

“You’ll thank me later.”

And he was right, she would. Finishing that essay would be hard enough as it was. She didn’t need the added challenge of being drunk.


	4. Essay

“Oh, that’s it,” Rachel said and slammed her laptop shut. “I’m done.”

Thomas looked up from the novel he was reading to glance at the clock. She’d been at it for less than an hour, and while he didn’t doubt her ability to finish an essay quickly when crunched for time, that did seem rather suspicious. “You’re finished already?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It’s just… I can’t seem to get it right. It’s all wrong.”

He raised an eyebrow. Of course, she would never directly ask him to help her with schoolwork, but preying on his willingness to do anything in his power to make her happy was equally as wrong. “I’m not writing your essay for you.”

“I don’t _want_ you to,” she huffed and got up from the couch. His help was the _last_ thing she wanted. “I’m just going to take a break and—”

“Rachel.” He put his book down on the coffee table, focusing his full attention on her. But she stood with her back to him, refusing to acknowledge he’d even spoken. “Rachel, come here.”

She sighed but turned around to sit back down, laying her head on his chest. “I just don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” he asked. Then he realised. “You’re not going to.”

She lifted her head off him, an eyebrow raised in suspicion as she studied his face. “I can almost _feel_ the insult coming.”

“It’s not an insult,” he said with a chuckle. “But while you _may_ make your _professor_ temporarily wonder if you own more than a single brain cell—”

“That most certainly _is_ an insult.”

He cut her a look. “—_I_ will still love you even without excellent essay-writing skills.”

“You’re an ass,” she said with a hint of a smile on her lips as she nuzzled into his chest again.

Thomas let out a soft laugh and gently kissed the top of her head. “You’ll do just fine. Top 10 per cent of my class, remember? And you _didn’t_ get there because of how fond I am of you.”

“Yeah, I got there _despite_ your fondness,” she muttered. “You were even more of a prick back then.”


	5. In the Shower

There were few things Rachel loved as much as falling asleep in Thomas’ arms. It didn’t happen often enough for her to be unable to sleep without him, but she always found herself wishing she never had to. Of course, that was all wishful thinking at this point. No matter how you looked at it, there was simply no way for them to have that. Not yet, anyway. Not for a long time. So she contented herself with the occasional night spent in his embrace and hoped that, one day, things would change for them. If – and that was a big if – Thomas even wanted that. She wasn’t so sure.

But, of course, he did. More than anything else in the world. To his own surprise, he’d had significantly more trouble falling asleep by himself since she’d waltzed into his life. Perhaps, he figured, it was his age catching up with him – longing for a permanent partner to spend the rest of his life with. The thought didn’t scare him as much as he thought it ought to. Though, surely – even if their circumstances had allowed it – it would have scared _her_ off, were he ever to voice it.

And so neither of them said a word, instead snuggling closer together, thoughts and dreams of the future pushed to the back of their minds as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

* * *

“Don’t you dare try to sneak out again,” Thomas said drowsily when he was woken up by a suspicious amount of movement next to him the next morning.

Rachel chuckled and leant over to place a quick kiss on his lips. “Why do you think I’m being so obnoxiously obvious? I wasn’t going to wake you, but if you just so happened to wake up…”

“You’re terrible,” he groaned, though he wasn’t truly annoyed. He’d much rather have her wake him than wake up later to her gone. He sat up, watching her walk over to his dresser – her drawer – where she grabbed a change of clothes. “Do you really have to leave already?”

She laughed again. “Yes, Thomas. Trust me, I’m not happy about my early morning classes, either, but I’d rather not retake Moriyama’s course.”

“You could always tell him you had an important meeting with another professor,” Thomas suggested with a smirk. “He’ll understand.”

Rachel rolled her eyes. “And here I thought my education was important to you.”

He huffed. “Of course it is. I simply fail to see why you chose to take _Photography_ of all things.”

“Oh, you think I won’t need that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow challengingly. “_Because while I may _think_ I understand my craft, while I may _think_ I’ve got what it takes to make it—_”

“Don’t you quote me to me,” Thomas warned. Of course, she wasn’t wrong. And he certainly wasn’t going to tell her which classes she could and couldn’t take. Not that she would have listened, either way.

“Well, I’ll be in the shower,” she said, and it took him a moment – until she started undressing on her way out of his room – to understand that she’d meant it as an invitation rather than a simple statement. But once he did, he was out of bed within seconds, following her like she had him on a leash.

The door to the bathroom was not only unlocked but wide open, and Thomas found her sitting naked on the edge of his bathtub. He swallowed hard.

_God, she was gorgeous._

“I was wondering if you’d get it,” she said cheekily as she stood up and slid open the shower door.

Thomas was still standing in the doorway, unable to form a response.

She turned around, raising an eyebrow. “Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?”

Another tug on the invisible leash that Thomas was now convinced existed and he followed her into the shower, kicking off his pants and underwear on the way. She ignored him for a moment – though not without effort, as the proximity of their naked bodies _did_ have an effect on her – and switched on the shower. The water, however, was still cold, and she took a step back from the icy stream, her body pressing up against Thomas’.

He let out a low growl at the sudden contact, which only served to encourage her as she started wiggling her ass against him.

“Rachel.”

What was meant as a warning came out more like a desperate plea and, not for the first time, Thomas wondered how he had so fallen under her spell.

She smirked, continuing her ministrations as she held a hand under the water to test the temperature again, then – once it was warm enough – moved away from Thomas to stand under it. Her smug expression never left her face as she turned around to face him.

Until, suddenly, he took control again, closing the distance that she had created between them and pressing his lips to hers urgently. He pushed her against the wall behind her, causing her to moan into his mouth. “Thomas…”

“Is _this _why you woke me up so early?” he asked, letting his lips wander over her jaw, then down her neck. “You know you could have just _asked_, right?” He nipped and sucked on her skin, knowing he would leave a mark that she would later cover up with that atrocious reindeer-patterned scarf of hers – but _he_ would know it was there, and that was what mattered. “I could never refuse you.”

Rachel hummed as his mouth moved down to her breasts, peppering kisses on her skin along the way. “Mhh, yes… but where’s the fun in that?” Her hands went into his hair, tugging slightly at the silky strands as she pulled him back up to her. “Besides, I _so_ love when you come to me.”

And with that, her lips were on his again as she rolled her hips once, feeling his growing erection press against her. She smirked then and let go of him to reach for the shampoo bottle. “But I think maybe I really _should_ start getting clean instead of dirtier if I want to be out of here in time.”

“Oh no,” Thomas said, grabbing her hand and pinning it against the tiled wall. “You’re not going _anywhere_ until we’re done here.”

She gasped as he pressed himself tightly against her, coherent thoughts banished from her mind. Still, she managed to get out, “I’m going to miss my Photography class.”

“Yes,” Thomas groaned as he sank his cock into her. He should have cared more but, single-minded as he was in that moment, he simply couldn’t bring himself to. “Yes, you are.”

And Rachel didn’t care much either, letting out a wanton moan as he began moving within her. God, he felt _so good._

Somehow, through the haze that was her mind, she remembered that the hot water was still running, and that they should probably turn it off, but as she blindly reached for the switch with her free hand, Thomas thrust deeper into her, making her grip his shoulder, her nails digging into his wet skin. “Oh, _fuck_!”

And with each thrust that followed, she moaned and gasped, spurring him on more and more, until she finally found her release with a loud scream of his name. Her walls convulsed around his cock, bringing his own orgasm as he buried his head in the crook of her neck, pressing himself as tightly against her as he possibly could.

They remained entangled in each other’s arms for a few moments as they caught their breath, the now merely lukewarm water still raining down on them.

“What are you _doing_ to me, Rachel?” Thomas whispered against her skin.

She chuckled weakly as she ran her hands through his hair. “I could ask you the same thing. I’ve _never _skipped a class without a good reason before.”

He frowned, and though she couldn’t see it, she knew exactly what expression was on his face from the tone of his voice alone. “Is this not a good reason?” He knew damn well it wasn’t, but it sure had felt like one.

“I suppose it is,” she said with a smile, then gently pulled Thomas’ hair. “But I think we’re running out of warm water soon so…”

He sighed, not yet willing to let her go, but took a step back nonetheless. “Right. I’ll let you get to it,” he said and moved to get out of the shower.

“Wait,” Rachel said, grabbing his arm. “Stay. Please?”

It didn’t take much convincing. None at all, really. “Of course.” He kissed her ever so gently before reaching for the shampoo bottle. “Turn around.”

She did as he asked, letting out soft moans as he massaged the shampoo into her scalp. Once he was done, she did the same for him.

By the time they got out of the shower, the water had run cold.

“I will be sure to inform Professor Moriyama that we were discussing your essay this morning,” Thomas said as he handed her a towel. He’d never meant to use the fact that he was her professor to her – or his – advantage, but he _had_ been the reason she’d missed her class, and he felt he would be remiss if he didn’t do his best to at least reduce the fallout.

“No need. I already emailed him last night,” she said with a smirk. “Did you know I had a _very_ important audition just now?” She wrapped the towel around her, then looked at Thomas, feigning disappointment. “Of course I didn’t get the role…”

“You little minx,” he said as he moved towards her, a smile he couldn’t hide tugging at the corners of his lips.

She grinned up at him. “You love it.”

“Mhhh,” he hummed and leant down to kiss her. “I love _you_.”

* * *

Neither of them wanted her to leave yet, but Rachel still had a short film to finish before her next class, and Thomas cursed himself for giving his class so much work to do.

“Oh, come on, you’ll see me again in – what? – like three hours?” she chuckled, placing a quick kiss on his lips.

He sighed. “Yes. As my _student_.”

“Hmm… five hours, then. You could make up some bullshit excuse to see me after class…”

“At one point or another, that ought to become suspicious.”

She grinned at him mischievously. “I’ll make sure to give you a reason then.”

And he didn’t doubt that she would. Causing trouble in his lecture was one of her many talents, after all.


	6. Family Matters

Rachel knew something was off the moment she’d stepped foot into her dorm building. She wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but _something_ just wasn’t right.

It wasn’t Addison, who’d waited in the common room for her and had given her a knowing look when she’d come in through the front door rather than from her room upstairs. Her, she’d expected. She had, after all, offered her help with Rachel’s short film.

And it wasn’t the fact that Addison kept teasing her about spending more time at Hunt’s place than on campus these days as they made their way up the stairs. That wasn’t unexpected, either.

What was, though, was the young man standing in the corridor, waiting by Rachel’s door. And that, she realised, was what had caused the uneasy feeling in her gut. But maybe… maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe he just _looked_ like him.

“Lawrence?”

He turned to her, revealing that he was indeed who she’d thought he was. A wide smile spread across his face. “Rachel!” He pulled her into a tight hug, knocking the air right out of her lungs. “I’ve missed you.”

_No_. No, he couldn’t be here. Because if he was here… then that very likely meant that the rest of his family was here, too. The rest of _her_ family.

“What… what are you doing here?” Rachel asked as calmly as she could once he’d released her. Maybe he _had_ come alone. It wouldn’t have been ideal, of course, since she’d be out of the country in a couple of days, but spending some time with her little brother beforehand wouldn’t be the worst thing.

He raised an eyebrow. “It’s Christmas? Well, almost, anyway. Didn’t you get our letter?”

Her heart sank. _Shit_.

Rachel vaguely remembered receiving a letter with her address in her mother’s handwriting on it a couple of months ago. She’d thrown it away without ever opening it. Now she wished she hadn’t. “Your… letter?”

“Yes! We told you we’d visit you!”

She took a deep breath. _We_. “Who is _we_?”

There was still hope. If it was just one of them – preferably her mother – she would be able to handle it.

“Mum, dad, and I,” Lawrence said after a moment’s hesitation. He knew how Rachel felt about family holidays, and it was clear that he felt more than a little guilty that he was so excited about it.

_Fuck no._

Another deep breath. “Well, that’s too bad. I’ve already made plans for Christmas so they’ll have to—”

“Rachel.” And there it was. That pleading tone and those puppy dog eyes that always got her. “We flew out here for you. We—”

“They should have known that my non-response meant that I didn’t want them to come. It’s their own fault.”

But Lawrence wouldn’t let up. “_I’m _here, too.”

“And you know that I’d be fine with it if it was just you,” she said exasperatedly. Why didn’t he understand that she was not going to go through another Christmas with the family? It always ended bad. _Always._

He huffed. “Yeah, right. But _I _happen to want to spend the holidays with my family. _All_ of my family.”

This was not something she wanted to discuss this early in the morning. Or in the corridor of her dorm. Or in front of Addison, who was standing a couple feet away to give them some privacy. Or ever, really, but definitely not right here, right now.

“Look, I… I have schoolwork to do. Can we talk later?” she asked with a sigh.

He narrowed his eyes at her. Then, after a moment, he said, “Fine. I’ll text you where we’re staying.”

* * *

She’d expected Addison to ask her a million questions the moment her brother had disappeared down the stairs but, to Rachel’s surprise, her friend had remained quiet, giving her space. And she was glad, because she still had a project to finish, and she did _not_ want to be distracted by stupid family problems.

* * *

Just like she’d suggested earlier, Thomas had asked to speak with Rachel after his lecture, and the moment the last student had left the room, she ran into his arms and buried her head in his chest. And then the tears came, and so did the sobs.

His arms wrapped around her instinctively as his chest tightened at the realisation that something – or someone – had dared to hurt her. “What is it, Rachel?”

She shook her head against him. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And as much as he hated not knowing what had her so upset, as much as he wanted to know how he could help fix whatever it was, he accepted that for the moment and simply held her close, soothingly stroking her hair as he whispered words of comfort.

_You’ll be okay. I’m here. Everything is going to be alright. I’m not going anywhere. You’ll be okay._

Perhaps he should have cared more about the fact that they were on campus and anyone could have walked in on them, but he didn’t. Because as she wept against him, desperately gripping his jacket as if he was going to disappear the moment she let go, all he could think about was alleviating as much of her distress as he possibly could. And if that meant holding her in the middle of a lecture hall, then that meant holding her in the middle of a lecture hall.


	7. One Big Mess

“I’m sorry. I know I’m overreacting,” Rachel said, cradling the cup of tea Thomas had made for her while she’d tried to calm down. The warmth and soothing properties of the chamomile tea had helped, and so had the familiar environment of Thomas’ office, where they had moved to once they’d realised there was another lecture to begin soon in the auditorium they’d been in.

Thomas sighed and leant against his desk, standing between it and the leather armchair that Rachel was sitting in. “Don’t apologise. You have every right to be upset.”

“No, I don’t. It’s not even like they’re _that_ bad. It’s just…” She shook her head and took a sip of her tea, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t know. It’s stupid. _I’m_ stupid. I shouldn’t—”

“Rachel,” Thomas said softly and took the cup from her hands, placing it on his desk. It pained him to know that she had good reason to believe that he would think she was being overly dramatic. He may have never tried to invalidate her feelings on purpose since they’d started their relationship, but before that… God, if only he could take all that back. “You’re _not_ stupid. I may not know your family, or your history with them, but interfering with plans you’ve already made isn’t fair of them.”

He himself had a hard time not becoming angry at these people he didn’t even know. Of course, he’d told Rachel just last night that he’d understand if she’d wanted to spend Christmas with them instead of him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Especially since it wasn’t _her_ that had made that choice, but _they_’d made it for her. But there wasn’t much he could do about it, and since he had offered to postpone their trip before, he was sure she’d take him up on it now. Maybe if he hadn’t said that…

“You know I’m not letting them, right? I’m meeting my brother later, and I’ll tell him what I told him before: I already have plans. And they can’t just show up here and expect me to change them.”

“I thought—”

“I told you yesterday, didn’t I? I _don’t want to_ spend the holidays with them.” She got up, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I want to be with _you_. The person I _love_. Not the people I just happen to be related to.”

Thomas furrowed his brows in confusion. “And if I wasn’t in the picture?”

“Then I probably would be sitting in my dorm room, complaining about how much I hate this godforsaken holiday while watching terrible Christmas movies,” she said, shaking her head. “This isn’t even about you, or us. I’d still be mad at them for deciding to come without talking to me first. Because that’s exactly the bullshit manipulative behaviour that made me want to get away from them in the first place. I know they’re going to pull the _oh-but-we-spent-all-this-money-on-flights _card and try to guilt me into going along with it. But I _won’t_.” She huffed. “And the fact that they’re trying to keep me away from you makes this even more annoying.”

He froze, panic rising in his chest. “Trying to keep you away from me? Do they… do they know?”

“Oh no. God, no,” Rachel said, shuddering at the thought. Her mother likely wouldn’t care much, but her father… and her brother? She didn’t even want to consider the possibility of them finding out. “That part, they’re not doing on purpose at least. And, don’t worry, I don’t plan on telling them. You know I wouldn’t.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. “You did tell your friend.”

“And _you_ talked about me to Ryan fucking Summers. You may not have told him who I was, but he figured it out nonetheless, didn’t he?”

He frowned. She did have a point. And it hadn’t been fair of him to bring Miss Sinclair up, either way. “I’m sorry. I’m just—”

“Worried, I know,” she sighed. “But it’ll be fine. I’m gonna tell them I’m busy, and we’ll be on our way to London.” She gave him a reassuring smile, then got on her tiptoes to place a kiss on his lips. “There’s nothing to be worried about, trust me.”

But Rachel knew that wasn’t going to be the end of it. As much as she wished things were that simple, they never were when it came to the dysfunctional pile of issues that was her family. But she hoped – prayed – that, for once, this wasn’t all going to become one big mess.


	8. Coffee with the Family

Rachel took a sip of her gingerbread-flavoured coffee as she glanced at her phone on the table. Only a few more minutes until Lawrence would be there. It had taken quite some effort to convince him to meet her in a coffee shop rather than at the hotel, but she absolutely did not want to face her parents. Though she was more likely to give in to her little brother’s wishes, she also knew that _he_ could be made to see reason.

Unfortunately, there was one thing she hadn’t considered – that Lawrence might not come alone. She groaned when she turned to look at the door when she’d heard it open and saw three people walk in instead of one. _Great_.

At least they were in public. If there had ever been a time that Rachel was thankful for their incessant need to appear like the perfect family to the outside world, it was now. They wouldn’t dare make a scene with this many people around.

Then again, they didn’t _know_ any of those people, and they weren’t likely to ever see any of them again. Would that change things? She hoped not, but one never knew…

Her mother, Erica, spotted her first, directing the other two’s attention to the table Rachel was sitting at. A table for two, but big enough for four if one were to steal two more chairs from other tables. She took another sip of her drink as her family walked towards her, then got up from her chair to greet them.

Lawrence was the fastest, pulling her into a hug to whisper, “I’m sorry. They insisted on coming along.”

She wanted to be angry, but she knew he could never defy their parents – just like she could never be mad at him for very long. “It’s okay. I’ll survive… hopefully.”

He pulled away with an apologetic smile, letting their mother take his place. “It’s good to see you, Rachel,” she said as she wrapped her arms around her daughter.

“You too, mum,” she replied, though it didn’t sound very sincere. It wasn’t. Her mother, however, didn’t seem to notice. Or if she did, she at the very least didn’t say anything. _Good_. Non-confrontational, for now, was good. Maybe this wouldn’t get out of hand, after all.

Once her mother stepped away, her father took her by surprise when he hugged her as well. Then again, it probably shouldn’t have. Even though he’d never apologised for the hurtful things he’d said to her the last time they’d spoken, in his mind, he probably thought she had already forgiven him. Which, granted, was her own fault for always forgiving them so readily. Or at least having done so in the past.

But she wasn’t going to say anything. Not yet, anyway. She refused to be the bad guy who started the argument. Though there would be an argument soon enough, and she had a sneaking suspicion that they’d find a way to blame it on her, either way.

They all stood in awkward silence for a moment, until Erica cleared her throat and spoke up. “So… Richard, dear, would you go order us some coffee?” She looked at her daughter for a moment, then turned to Lawrence. “You should go with him so he doesn’t mess up my order again.”

The two men nodded, then disappeared towards the counter. Erica sat down in the vacant chair across from her daughter.

“How are you, Rachel?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Fine. How’s your marriage?” _So much for not starting any arguments._ “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

Her mother gave her a thin-lipped smile. “No, you shouldn’t have. But Richard shouldn’t have said what he did, either.”

“Which part? The one about my going away being the last nail in the coffin for your relationship? Or the one where he said I shouldn’t ever come back if I leave for LA? Or the one—”

“I get it. He was an ass, but he _is_ sorry.”

Rachel huffed. “Did he tell you that? Or are you just assuming he is?”

“We didn’t come here to fight.”

She took a deep breath. Her mother clearly was trying to make sure she wouldn’t start anything. “That’s great and all, but that doesn’t change anything about the fact that I’m leaving on Saturday. I already made plans, and you shouldn’t have come without checking with me first.”

“We did write you a letter,” her mother argued.

“To which I didn’t respond,” Rachel countered. “Didn’t that tip you off?”

Two mugs were placed on the table with a little too much force, some of their contents spilling out onto the wooden surface.

“If anything, it showed us just how necessary coming here was,” her father said as he pulled up a chair from a table nearby and sat down. “You’ve only become more defiant since you’ve left, and someone has to—”

“Richard,” Erica interrupted him. “Calm down. No fighting, remember?” She said and motioned to her son, who was carrying over another chair to their table.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. Something very clearly was up because while she knew her mother wasn’t very fond of confrontation, she usually wasn’t dead set on avoiding it, either. “Okay, just tell me why exactly you’re here. I still have one more essay to write before the break, and I really don’t have time for this.”

“Look at her! She’s choosing her idiotic pursuit of a worthless degree over us again. But _I’m_ the bad guy,” her father said, shaking his head. “She doesn’t even care about family.”

Oh, that was rich, coming from him. As if he had any right to talk. About family! Fucking family! He’d never given half a shit about family. “I _do_ care, just not about your idea of family. Now, can you just _please_ tell me what’s going on?”

“I got into Oxford,” her brother said as he sat down on the chair he’d just carried over. “I’m leaving next fall, and I just wanted one last family Christmas before I leave.” His shoulders slumped. “But I guess that was too much to ask.”

_God damn it._

Rachel pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to come up with the right response. Of course, she was happy for him. But the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. Not necessarily at Lawrence – though she sure as hell didn’t appreciate the fact that he’d been behind all of this – but more so at her parents. Because it seemed they were fine with it.

Her brother moving to a whole other country was just fine, but her moving to another state to pursue her dreams made her evil incarnate? Oh, fuck no. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry I messed everything up,” Lawrence said, looking at the cup in his hands before placing it on the table and getting up. “I think… I think I’m just going to go before I can make it any worse.”

The moment he was out of earshot, Richard turned to his daughter. “Are you happy? Now you’ve upset him again. Did you know he was devastated when you didn’t show last Christmas? Of course you didn’t. Because you didn’t even bother to call.”

“Fuck you, dad,” Rachel said as she got up to follow her brother.

“Excuse me? What did you just say?” her father said, his voice loud enough to make the people around them look up.

Rachel, however, ignored him, and went outside to find her brother. He hadn’t gone far, only just across the street, where he sat on a park bench. She sat down beside him.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gingerly putting her arm around his shoulders. “I am happy for you, you should know that.”

He shook his head. “Clearly not happy enough or you wouldn’t insist on fighting with mum and dad.”

She wanted to argue that it wasn’t all her fault, though, this time, maybe it had been. She sighed. “I know. I know, I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your Christmas, but—”

“You have other plans. Yeah, you told me,” he said, looking up at her. “I want you to know that they said you knew. That we’d come, I mean.”

Maybe she should have been surprised, but she really wasn’t. And they dared accuse her of not caring about family! This was their mess, and it wasn’t her job to clean it up. But she would… the only question was how. She still remained firm on not wanting to give up on her trip with Thomas. She absolutely wouldn’t.

She sighed. There was really only one thing she could do. “Come back inside. Let’s at least finish our coffee.”

He nodded, and they both went back into the coffee shop. The tension between Rachel and her parents was almost palpable but, somehow, they managed to remain mostly civil – for Lawrence’s sake – until all of them had finished their drinks.

Richard and Lawrence were out the door first, Erica right behind them, but Rachel held her back.

“Mum, a word?”

Her mother nodded, then told her husband she’d be right with them before turning back to her daughter.

“I’m sorry for making a scene. And I _do_ want to make up for hurting Lawrence’s feelings. I can’t change my plans for Christmas but…” She clenched her jaw. She did not want to say what she said next, but she did feel guilty, and maybe – just maybe – they could pull themselves together for a couple of hours and make this work. They had managed to just now, hadn’t they? “…but maybe we could have a Pre-Christmas on Friday. My last class ends at four, and we could have dinner and all that then?”

Her mother smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She herself doubted that anything good would come of it. “That sounds lovely. I’ll make the arrangements.” She hugged her daughter one more time before following her husband and son back to their hotel.

Rachel sighed, and pulled out her phone, immediately calling Thomas. He picked up after the first ring. “How did it go?”

“Great. Absolutely… great,” she said unenthusiastically. “Do you think we could switch flights? I’m afraid I won’t make it to the early morning flight and…”

She heard a heavy exhale on the other end of the line. _Shit._ He was not as on board with her seeing her family as he’d said he was. “Are you going to make it at all?”

“Yes,” she said. “I told you before: I’m _not_ letting them ruin our Christmas.”

There was a short silence before he finally said, “Alright. I’ll make the necessary amendments to our bookings. See you on Saturday.”

“Wait, I—” Rachel started but was cut off by the sound of him hanging up. Wonderful. Maybe she really was just incapable of not upsetting the people she cared about.


	9. Don't Go Bacon My Heart

Rachel slept in her own bed that night, and it surprised her how much she hated it. If there had ever been a time that she absolutely needed Thomas next to her, it was tonight. But, alas, he was another name on the long list of people she’d pissed off that day. So she lay in her bed alone, tossing and turning until she finally fell into a fitful slumber in the early morning hours.

The next day, she woke up to a few missed calls and a couple of text messages.

02:03 AM_ I’m sorry. I hope you enjoy your time with your family. – T._

02:11 AM_ Can we talk? I shouldn’t have hung up on you. – T._

02:24 AM_ Rachel?_

02:32 AM_ Please don’t ignore me. – T._

03:08 AM_ I’ve emailed you the details of your flight. See you soon. – Love, T._

She groaned, knowing full well she’d been awake when he’d sent those messages but hadn’t bothered to look at her phone. After quickly checking the time – not early enough for him to still be asleep, luckily – she called him.

It rang a couple of times, and Rachel knew he’d let it ring on purpose, before he finally picked up. “Rachel?”

She let out a sigh of relief when she realised he didn’t sound irritated but rather happy she’d called. “Thomas. Oh God, I didn’t mean to ignore you. I didn’t see your messages, and I swear I would have answered if I had because I’m _not_ mad at you, and I—”

“Breathe,” Thomas said, and she heard the distinct sound of him suppressing a chuckle. Oh, _thank goodness_, they were okay. _They were okay_. “Are you breathing?”

Rachel nodded, then realised he couldn’t see her. “Yes. Let’s try this again. I’m sorry I didn’t see your texts. And I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you before making plans with my family. I should have asked first.”

“You don’t need my permission to spend time with them.” He paused for a moment. “Do you want to come over before your first lecture? I know you dreaded talking to your brother, and I should have been there for you after.” Another pause before he added, almost too quietly, “And I hated not having you here last night.”

She was out of bed within seconds of this admission. “I’ll be right there.”

And she was, less than twenty minutes later. He opened the door in nothing but the sweatpants he wore to bed, his mouth falling open in surprise. “That was… fast.”

“Would you rather have waited longer?” she asked as she stepped into the house. “I can take my time, do my hair and all that, next time if you’d prefer that.”

“Never,” he said, closing the door behind her before gently pushing her against it, caging her body with his. He smiled at her, relieved that she had come, then let his lips meet hers. Softly, ever so softly, he kissed her as he raised one hand to her cheek and let the other fall to her waist. _God, he loved this woman with all his heart._

After a long while that, somehow, still wasn’t enough, she pulled back. “Is that bacon I smell?”

Thomas chuckled, shaking his head. “Forgive me, I forgot where your priorities lie. Would you care for some breakfast?”

“Mhh… yes, in a moment,” she said and got on her tiptoes to kiss him again. A grin spread across her face when she pulled away. “Now, _that’s_ where my priorities lie. I’m not saying no to breakfast, though.”

He took her by the hand and led her into his kitchen, where she immediately sat down in her rightful place on the island counter opposite the stove and watched him get to work. Thomas smiled to himself as he added two more eggs and a few more strips of bacon to the pan – he’d long given up trying to keep her off the work surfaces, and had, in fact, found that there were benefits to her elevated position.

“If I’d known you’d be here so soon, I would have made waffles,” he said as he turned to her, moving to stand between her legs. After hearing her talk about the oh-so-heavenly waffles she’d discovered at a coffee shop near campus, he’d made her some for breakfast one day, and he still remembered the delighted look on her face when she’d told him she never wanted to eat anything else ever again.

Rachel chuckled, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer. “I think bacon and eggs will do.” She let her hands wander over his exposed chest. “Besides, I’m much more interested in the cook. Looks_ very_ delicious.”

He shivered under her feather-light touch as her fingers kept dancing over his skin, lower and lower until they reached the hem of his pants. He let out a soft sigh. “Rachel…”

“Hmm?” She looked up at him through her lashes, fluttering them innocently. Her hands moved back up, and then higher, until she was holding his face in her hands. “Something wrong?”

Her name fell from his lips again, though as more of warning and less of a plea this time. She, naturally, chose to ignore it, and pulled his face to hers to kiss him tenderly. His own hands found their way around her as he deepened the kiss, pressing against her as he pulled her closer.

Soon enough, their moans and groans filled the kitchen, drowning out the violent sizzling sound of their breakfast as it burnt to a crisp in its pan.


	10. Loved

Rachel shared the events of the previous day with Thomas over breakfast and, though he certainly didn’t enjoy her pain, he delighted in hearing her finally, _finally_, open up to him.

“You must think I’m terribly selfish.” She poured some syrup over her last waffle – Thomas had ended up making some after all when he’d realised that charred bacon and shrivelled, bone-dry eggs would not do – and let out a sigh. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re not selfish,” he interrupted, shaking his head. That thought hadn’t even crossed his mind when she’d called him last night. Everyone around her may have been – both Thomas and her family wanted her all to themselves – but Rachel, if anything, wasn’t selfish _enough_. She so desperately wanted to please both parties. And, somehow, she’d found a solution. Why was she beating herself up about it still? “You offered a compromise that works for everyone, did you not?”

She huffed. “It works for _me_. And for you, I guess, but I don’t think my family’s too happy with it.” She stabbed her waffle with her fork and aggressively cut off a piece before stuffing it in her mouth. “Fuckin’ affholef.”

Thomas refrained from commenting on her lack of table manners. Though her mood had significantly bettered after their _morning workout_, he was reasonably sure that she would not appreciate being scolded at a time like this. So he took a sip of his coffee, watching her chew and swallow before picking up another piece of the waffle.

This time, she spoke before putting it into her mouth. “I mean, it’s not like I’m not proud of him, you know? Oxford is a big deal, and I _know_ how much it means to him, but _why_ did he have to wish for another Christmas with us?”

“You’re not angry at your brother.”

She sighed. “No, I’m not. Not really. He’s… well, not innocent, but he’s just… he’s always wanted this happy family. And, God, I hope he finds it one day. It’s just not _our_ family.”

Rachel continued eating her waffle, and though Thomas had expected her to keep talking, it appeared she was done. He, however, still had many unanswered questions. Would she close up again if he dared ask them?

“You seem to be particularly bothered about Christmas,” he said cautiously.

She raised an eyebrow, wary of what was to come, but nodded. “Mhm.”

“If you don’t mind me asking… why? It’s not just our trip.” He thought back to the conversation they’d had in his office the day before. She’d more than confirmed that it wasn’t – _I probably would be sitting in my dorm room, complaining about how much I hate this godforsaken holiday. _“Why is Christmas such a sore spot?”

A laugh escaped her lips, bitter and chilling. “Because everything always goes to shit on Christmas.”

“How so?”

She finished off her waffle before answering. “We always fought. Honestly, I can’t remember a single day in the last five or so years that I lived with them that we didn’t fight, but, you know, that’s – you get used to it at some point. It’s just part of day-to-day life. But the holidays – especially Christmas – are supposed to be different, aren’t they?” Her hand was shaking when she reached for her coffee. So was her voice when she spoke again. “I never _wanted_ to hate Christmas. But how can you enjoy a celebration of love when all you get is contempt?”

Thomas was out of his chair the moment her tears began to fall. He was by her side within seconds, strong arms pulling her up from her chair and against his chest. “You _are_ loved, Rachel,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, burying his face in her hair. “I will make sure that you’ll feel it this Christmas. And every Christmas to come.”

“God, I’m such a mess,” she said, trying to pull away but he only gripped her tighter. She looked up at him, eyes puffy and wet. “What—”

He looked down at her, face creased with worry. “I’m not letting them hurt you. If they upset you in any way, you call me. I’ll pick you up; I’ll take you home. Or here, or wherever else you want to go. Okay?”

“I can’t ask that of you,” she whispered, burying her head in his chest again.

Thomas put his hand under her chin to tilt her face up. He needed her to see just how serious he was. “You’re not asking. I’m offering.”


	11. Professor

Somehow, Rachel made it through her last two days of classes before the break… and before the holiday celebration with her family. She was still rather convinced the evening would end in disaster, but at least her mother had opted to make reservations at a restaurant that, so shortly before Christmas, would be fairly crowded instead of having dinner somewhere in private. And, by her brother’s request, they’d be visiting a Christmas Market beforehand – which meant loads and loads of mulled wine to get her through all of it.

Before she went to meet her family, though, she stopped by her favourite professor’s office. After all, she likely wouldn’t see him again before his early morning flight the next day, and she couldn’t very well let him go without a proper goodbye.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Thomas said when he opened the door but let her in nonetheless. “You have _no idea_ how many of my colleagues insist on wishing everyone happy holidays or a relaxing break or something equally as inconsequential.”

She grinned mischievously as she wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered, “It’s a good thing, then, that your door has a lock.” Getting on her tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling away and walking over to the door and turning the key. “No more annoying co-workers who could disturb us.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow as he moved towards her. “Because my office being locked isn’t suspicious in the least.”

“You could have already gone home. After all, who could blame you for wanting to get away from all us imbeciles as soon as possible?” She leant back against the door, her eyes trained firmly on him. “Are you going to come collect your goodbye kiss or not?”

He was on her in an instant, his lips finding hers – but only for a moment before he moved them along her jaw and up to her ear. “You didn’t come here with any indecent intentions, did you?”

“I—” She was cut off before she could even finish forming the sentence in her head when he moved her scarf to the side and attached his lips to her newly exposed skin. “Thomas!”

He smiled against her neck. “Shh. We’re still on campus.”

“Very well, _Professor_,” she purred.

Thomas froze. Then he removed his lips from her skin as he lifted his head to look at her. She hadn’t called him that, at least not outside of class, in a while. And somehow, the way she said it…

She noticed the shocked look on his face, immediately regretting her words. Of course he wouldn’t think it was sexy. What had she been thinking? “I’m sorry, I—”

“No,” Thomas growled, pushing her further against the door. “Say it again.”

Her eyes widened. “What—”

“_Say it again_.”

His words went right through her, straight to her core. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in until her lips were only a breath away from his. “Professor,” she whispered. “Oh, _Professor_.”

Thomas – ProfessorHunt – closed the minimal distance between them, kissing her hungrily. He savoured every single one of her little gasps, and the way her body responded so perfectly to his, knowing that she’d have to leave far too soon.

“How long until you have to meet your family?” he asked breathlessly.

She whimpered at the loss of contact between their lips and pulled him into another kiss. “I don’t know.”

“How long, Rachel?” he pressed.

“I’m meant to meet them at four-thirty, I think.”

“Fuck,” he groaned. Less than fifteen minutes, and that was without taking the time she needed to get there into consideration – nowhere near long enough for the things he wanted to do to her.

Rachel smirked against his lips. “Mhh, such language, Professor.” He silenced her with another kiss and a roll of his hips. But only for a moment, because she felt the growing bulge in his pants press against her, and her smirk grew. “Now _who’s_ the one with indecent intentions?”

“Stop talking,” he whispered and kissed her again, pulling gently at her bottom lip. “I intend to at least enjoy the time we’ve got left.”

“Good,” she breathed before getting lost in his kisses again.


	12. Quite Convincing

Shortly after Rachel had left to meet her family, Thomas had made his way to his favourite screening room on campus to get started on watching the atrocities his students called short films. He took a pouch full of flash drives out of his bag, reaching inside to pull one out at random. It didn’t have a name written on it – though he’d specifically asked them to do just that – and he didn’t find out whose film it was until the credits rolled. He was tempted to give them an F just for that, but decided that it had, in fact, been almost acceptable so he graded it fairly, simply subtracting some points for their inability to follow instructions.

He’d just started watching the second film when his phone vibrated – a text from Rachel.

_This is hell._

He furrowed his brows, unsure if she was serious or joking. _This_ was why he preferred to speak to people instead of text them.

_Do you need me to pick you up? – T._

She didn’t reply immediately so he focussed his attention on Mr Sergio’s project again. It only took a few seconds until Thomas was ready to smash his head into a wall. He was glad when the vibration of his phone announced another text – and, therefore, a distraction.

_No. But I wish I was with you instead._

He smiled. He, too, would have much rather spent time with her than watch ‘Sleeping Spark – a fabulous Lance original’. But, alas, that wasn’t possible at the moment.

_You will be. Tomorrow. – T._

His thumb hovered over the play button, but he didn’t even have the time to press it before the next message arrived.

_You should come._

A sigh escaped him. He would have loved that, really, he would have.

_You know I can’t. – T._

This time, he actually managed to watch a few more minutes – though, truly, he would have much rather lobotomised himself – before his phone went off again.

_My mother’s trying to get me to come back home._

His heart stopped for a moment. Of course, Rachel was just trying to get her way. But what if…? The next text came almost immediately.

_She can be quite convincing._

If she was anything like her daughter, Thomas didn’t doubt it. He stopped the film, his focus shot anyway.

_Stop that. – T._

He could almost imagine her grin when she typed her next message.

_I don’t know, she’s making a pretty good case._

The next message was simply her live location. With a sigh, he turned everything off, and made his way to his car. A terrible idea, no doubt. But she was in public, in the same city he lived in. Granted, it was a large city, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t run into each other accidentally. Lord knew it had happened often enough before.

He spent the entire drive trying to rationalise his decision, though he knew full well that there was no rational explanation for why he was on his way to her now.

It didn’t take long until he was there – though it did take quite a bit of time until he found a parking spot. Once he finally did, he checked his phone again. Rachel – and her family, he reminded himself – was less than a two-minute walk away, according to his phone. He sent her another message before getting out of his car.

_I’m here. – T._

He put his phone in his pocket, confident he’d find her without directions, and began looking for her. He walked past dozens of stalls selling all kinds of Christmas-themed – and some… not Christmas-themed – knick-knacks before he found one offering a variety of hot beverages. Hadn’t she said something about not surviving this day without mulled wine? Surely, she had to be—

“Professor Hunt!”

She sounded genuinely surprised and Thomas smiled to himself, making a mental note to watch her film next to see if she could apply those acting skills to his assignment as well, before he turned around. She and three others – her family, he assumed – were standing around a bar table. They looked rather strange together, he found.

The woman next to Rachel looked just like her – or, well, the other way around – except she was, of course, quite a bit older. She was also a little smaller in height, and perhaps it was that – or her age – that made her look a bit chubbier. That, however, was as far as family resemblance went between any of them.

The older man stuck out the most, tall and bulky, towering over the rest of them. The younger man was the opposite – though still a bit taller than Rachel, he was also very lanky and, if Thomas had been one to judge people by appearances, he would have said he looked like he preferred to spend his time behind a computer rather than out in the real world.

“Miss Fields,” he said as he approached them, his usual emotionless expression on his face. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She shrugged and struggled to hold back a grin. “Well, it _is_ Christmas… almost, anyway. I had to show my family around a bit, didn’t I?” Her father opened his mouth to say something, but just then, she continued. “Everyone, this is Professor Hunt.” She turned to her father specifically and stressed, “Thomas Hunt.”

His eyes widened, and he immediately went to shake Thomas’ hand. “Richard Fields, Rachel’s father. It’s such an honour to meet you, Mr Hunt.”

Thomas saw Rachel roll her eyes at that. He’d have to ask her why later, but for now, he was busy being greeted by the rest of her family. The other two weren’t quite as enthusiastic, but certainly not impolite.

He stayed for a little while, making small talk with the parents of the woman he loved, who weren’t supposed to find out he was in love with their daughter. It wasn’t quite as awkward as he thought it would be, and they turned out to be rather pleasant. Of course, he wasn’t going to judge their character based on a short conversation only. He trusted Rachel’s assessment of them and remained wary throughout their interactions.

“Well, I should be on my way,” he said after a while, noticing but choosing to ignore Rachel’s pleading eyes. Staying any longer was certainly not a good idea. Surely, she would understand.

It wasn’t her that spoke up, though. Her father did. “What a shame. I was hoping you could stay for a drink.”

“I was just going to get us all a refill,” her mother chimed in after a moment’s hesitation.

He sighed, and looked over at Rachel, who only shrugged. She was giving him a choice. Her family, though, not so much. “Very well. I suppose I can stay a little longer.”

“Wonderful,” Mrs Fields said and clapped her hands together. “I’m not sure I can carry five mugs, though…”

She looked at Thomas, who immediately offered his help, not thinking too much of it. He didn’t see Rachel’s shocked expression when he did.

“No, I should go with him,” Rachel immediately protested. She shot a glare in her father’s direction, “My money’s got to be good for something, right?”

Her mother shot her down immediately. “I’m going to get us a refill. Mr Hunt will join me. Right?”

“Of course,” he reiterated before following her to the stall. He heard Rachel mutter something under her breath though he didn’t understand what she was saying.

Mrs Fields and Thomas walked in uncomfortable silence for a moment. Eventually, he got a bit too uncomfortable, and tried to start a conversation. “You have a very talented daughter.”

“And a very stupid one,” she said, taking him by surprise.

He raised an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say that. She doesn’t seem—”

“She _obviously_ has a massive crush on you.”

He stopped in his tracks. _Shit._ “Excuse me?”

“If I can be honest, it’s why I asked you to come with me. To warn you. She can be… quite convincing if she wants to be. I would hope you wouldn’t fall for her charms.”

Thomas coughed. “I don’t believe that is the case but… I will be careful not to lead her on. Thank you, Mrs Fields.”

“Oh,” she said, turning to him to study his face for a moment. “I should have realised. You’re already sleeping with her.”


	13. Doubts

The woman laughed, rather cruelly, upon seeing the expression on Thomas’ face. “You’re not even going to deny it?”

“Would you believe me?” he croaked. He ought to have been angry – at Rachel, at her mother, at himself – but his fear overrode everything else. _What now?_

She laughed again and shook her head. “Of course not. For what it’s worth, I don’t blame you.”

Thomas didn’t respond. He wasn’t sure what response would have been appropriate. Perhaps he should have asked her what she planned to do with this information. Instead, he followed her to the concession stand and watched her place the order. Once she had, she turned to him again.

“You’re afraid I’m going to out you,” she stated matter-of-factly.

He didn’t deny it. “Are you? It’s going to hurt your daughter as well.”

Another laugh. “She’d deserve it. But, no, I don’t need to.”

For a split second, he was relieved, but that relief was soon overshadowed by something else. Something about the way she’d said that… “I’m not sure I follow.”

“It’ll hurt _you_ much more when she inevitably leaves you for someone more famous. Maybe you’ll even be the one to expose it all one day.” She smiled sinisterly before taking the first two mugs from the vendor, handing them to Thomas. “The way a young, up-and-coming actress seduced and used you for your power, your influence.” He began to protest, tell her that that certainly was not what Rachel was doing, but she ignored him. “It’s quite tragic, really, how history keeps repeating itself.”

His protest died down. “How do you mean?”

“Of course, she wouldn’t have told you.” Mrs Fields paid for the drinks and took the last three mugs from the vendor, then turned to Thomas once more. “She’s done it before. You should ask her about Mr Sherman. He was her boss at one point – until he realised she was using him.”

Her boss. An authority figure and someone who had the power to help her further her career. It sounded awfully familiar. But Rachel had warned him about her mother. She’d probably just made it all up to mess with his head. Thomas refused to believe her. “You’re trying to scare me off. It won’t work.”

“You can ask her. She won’t expect you to, so I don’t think she’d deny it.”

He remained silent throughout their walk back to the others, his mind racing. He didn’t think he’d be thrown for a loop so easily, but this was something he’d wondered about ever since Rachel had started to show interest in him. _Why?_ _Why would someone like _her_, young and promising and beautiful, want someone like _him? Perhaps it had just been a shot in the dark on her mother’s part, but she’d hit the bullseye, and the doubts simply wouldn’t leave his mind now.

Rachel noticed something was up almost immediately, eyeing him suspiciously as they all kept up the insufferable small talk. Once Thomas had finished his drink, he attempted to bid them goodbye again. Rachel followed him under the guise of having to discuss an assignment with him. He wished she hadn’t, but now that she had, he needed to know.

Once out of her family’s sights, he pulled her into a corner by a Christmas tree. He was surprised by how hostile he sounded when he spoke. As if he’d already made up his mind. “Your mother knows.”

“I figured as much,” Rachel said. Her voice was soft, soothing. He knew it was deliberately so, which didn’t help her case. “What did she say? I’m sure she told you all kinds of things about me, but I can assure you—”

“She told me about Mr Sherman,” he interrupted. She went impossibly pale at the mention of the name and averted her eyes. _Guilt_, Thomas thought. It was all the confirmation he needed. “I see. I should… I should go.”

With that, he turned around and left, not seeing the hot tears that had begun streaming down Rachel’s face.


	14. An Eye for an Eye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally said that I didn't love this chapter... well, after re-reading it several times, I realised that I absolutely hate it. Which is why I'm rewriting it at the moment. Don't worry, you're not really missing anything. Basically, it's just Rachel going back to her family to yell at them. She reveals everyone's secrets they've been keeping from each other and wreaks havoc on already strained relationships. Then she leaves and threatens to never talk to them again if she can't get Thomas back.

Rachel took a few moments to let her tears dry and calm herself down. Though the calm was merely a façade, concealing the violent rage bubbling inside her. She was still hurt – and mad – that Thomas had so easily been swayed by her mother, but that had soon made way for the furious anger she felt towards _her_. And so she strode back to their table with determination, undoubtedly looking like she was about to murder someone. Maybe she was.

Her brother spotted her first, eyebrows furrowed when he saw her expression. “Rachel, what—”

She held a hand up, silencing him, her full attention on her mother. “You’re going to regret that.”

“Oh?” Her mother raised her eyebrows. She very clearly didn’t believe her daughter would – or even could – do anything remotely close to making her regret.

And, in all honesty, Rachel wasn’t so sure there was anything she could do, anyway. Except, of course, for one thing. It was the worst thing she could think of, but at this point in time, Rachel didn’t care that it was the lowest of blows. “You better hope I can fix his. Because if not… if I’ve lost him for good… you’ve just lost a daughter.”


	15. Never Let Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of rape (before the events of the story). No detailed or graphic descriptions, of course. Proceed with caution.

She was sure that Thomas would not be thrilled to see her turn up on his doorstep after what had transpired a few hours ago, but Rachel simply couldn’t help herself. She needed to explain her side of the story – the truth of what had happened – to him or she was going to explode. And she hoped, _she hoped_, he would believe her. Because she couldn’t lose him. Not over something like this. Not over a fucking _lie_ her mother had come up with to vilify her own daughter.

Of course, Thomas didn’t open the damn door when she rang the doorbell. Not after the second and third time, either. Not even when she thought she must have pressed it over a dozen times. It was childish, and stupid, but when he kept ignoring her, she began banging her fists against the door. Surely, the neighbours would notice, and while that was the last thing she wanted, she knew very well that Thomas wouldn’t have wanted that, either.

And it worked. He opened the door almost immediately, and Rachel wondered if he’d stood there all along. “What are you doing here?”

His tone was still hostile but, more than that, it was cold. So cold. She’d heard it before, after New York. Nonetheless, she had _not_ come to fight him. “I’m here to talk. I—”

“I’m not interested,” he said, shaking his head. He knew hearing her out would have been the right thing to do, but he wasn’t about to let her lull him in again. And he was sure she would if he allowed her in.

Rachel sighed. “Please. I need to explain. I need to—”

“I _said_ I’m not interested,” he repeated, more firmly this time.

She clenched her jaw. He was usually much more reasonable, but of course, _of course_, he wouldn’t be when it mattered. “Just let me fucking explain my side of the story. You owe me that much.” He put his hand on the doorknob, about to slam it in her face no doubt, and panic rose in her chest. It was audible in her voice when she spoke again. “_Please._”

And that was all it took. His resolve crumbled, and he opened the door wider, letting her inside. “You have five minutes.”

She huffed, very clearly not happy with his unwillingness to hear her out, but made her way to the living room where she sat down on his couch nonetheless. She motioned for him to sit down beside her. He remained standing.

“Fine. Have it your way,” she said snippily, then took a deep breath to calm herself. _Don’t fight with him_. Even if she had wanted to, she’d have been far too exhausted. “What did my mother tell you?”

She had a rough idea, of course, but her mother hadn’t actually ever gone as far as talking about what had happened – or the twisted version of the story she’d come up with – to anyone. In fact, she’d gone to great lengths to make sure no one – especially not Rachel – would ever speak a word about it.

Or maybe her mother hadn’t even lied to him. Maybe she’d simply told him the truth and that was what had pushed him away. A terrifying thought that nearly brought tears to her eyes again.

“I thought _you_ wanted to explain,” Thomas said, folding his arms across his chest. “I want the truth, Rachel, not your excuses.”

She shook her head. “I _really_ don’t think you do.” Another deep breath. “But, okay. I’ll give you the truth.”

She didn’t notice when she started drumming her fingers on her leg, but Thomas did. “You’re nervous.”

“Of course,” she said, looking away. “This isn’t… it’s not something I talk about. Ever.”

Thomas did his best to ignore the sudden vulnerability in her expression. _She’s an actress_, he reminded himself. _And a damned good one_.

“I was sixteen when I got my first job,” she started, her eyes glazed over as she was transported to a different time and place. “It was at a lovely little café in my hometown, owned by one of my mother’s friends. Mr Sherman.” She cringed when she spoke his name and hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I was talking about needing money when she had him over for coffee, and he immediately offered me a job.” She shook her head at her own naiveté. “I should have known it was too good to be true when he was willing to give it to me just like that. But I was young, and I was stupid.”

Thomas furrowed his brows. That wasn’t what he had expected. He didn’t know much about working in cafés, but he doubted there were many opportunities for promotions to be had. “You were a waitress?”

“I was.” She nodded. “Pay was… not ideal. And I’m sure it was deliberately so.”

Ah, there it was. “So you slept with him for a raise.”

He expected her to cuss him out like she had the last time he’d suggested she would do such a thing. Of course, it had been different then, and it hadn’t been some guy from her hometown but Chris Winters, but still… her lack of retaliation worried him.

“No,” she said, her voice very quiet all of a sudden. “I asked for more hours. He said that wasn’t possible. But he had a different offer. I refused.” She swallowed hard, averting her gaze again. She couldn’t very well look at him – or anyone, for that matter – when she continued. “He didn’t take no for an answer.”

Thomas’ eyes widened in shock and a choked sound escaped him. And then realisation of what he’d just said to her – and had said to her before – washed over him, and he was scrambling to apologise. “Rachel, I’m—”

She didn’t let him speak. “I was tiny and weak, and he was… he was…” Her words caught in her throat when she started sobbing.

Thomas was still standing, watching helplessly. He wanted to run to her and hold her and wipe away her tears but he wasn’t sure that was what she wanted.

“I was no match for him, Thomas.” Her sobs became louder and more violent. “I couldn’t stop him. I couldn’t…”

She looked up at him, her eyes pleading him to understand, and he crossed the distance to the couch in a heartbeat, sitting down next to her. “Tell me what I can do.” With every moment that she remained silent, he grew more and more anxious. “Rachel, what can I do?”

Instead of giving him an answer, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry.”

He was taken aback, unsure how to react. He wanted to hold her, to caress her back in soothing circles and to stroke her hair like he usually did, but he was so terribly uncertain if that was what she needed. So he cautiously placed his arms around her trembling body, barely touching her.

She began shaking more violently at that. “You won’t even hug me right anymore,” she sobbed into his shirt. “That’s why I never wanted to tell you. You’ll never look at me the same way again. You’ll never touch me the same way again.”

“That’s not true,” he whispered. It couldn’t be – he wouldn’t let it be. He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her close, and moved one hand to her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Please tell me what you need me to do.”

She looked up at him, face red and wet from her crying, eyes wide with worry. “I need you to… I need you to not treat me differently.” She sniffled. “I need you to hold me, and to kiss me, and to still love me.” She went awfully quiet for a moment and looked away. “If you still want me, that is.”

“If I still—” he choked. As if he could ever not want her. As if that was even a question! “I will _always_ want you, Rachel. How could you ever think—”

“How could I not?” she asked, hiding her face in his shirt again. “You left.”

His heart sank as he realised she thought _this_ had been the reason he’d run off. “You must know that your mother told me a completely different story. I would never… if I’d known…”

“What _did_ she say to you?” she asked, lifting her head to look at him again. She probably didn’t even want to know the vile things she’d said, but she needed to know.

He shook his head. “Don’t… you don’t need to hear this.”

“What did she say, Thomas?” she pressed. She needed to hear that there had been a reason he had left her, and that that reason wasn’t that he considered her damaged goods.

He swallowed hard. “That you used him to get ahead.” He couldn’t look her in the eyes as he spoke, ashamed he’d so readily believed a person he didn’t even know without giving Rachel a real chance to explain. It was entirely unlike him to let his judgement be clouded by his feelings, his insecurities, but with her… how could he not have worried if there were so many people better suited for her? “That you’re doing the same to me.”

“I wouldn’t… I can’t believe…” She shook her head vehemently. “You have to know that I would never do that. _You have to know that_.”

Thomas pulled her into him again, running his fingers through her hair. “Shh. I know. I know. I’m so sorry. I cannot express how sorry I am.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “For everything. For believing her, for what I said to you, for doubting you. I…” He trailed off. This was not the time to bring up his own issues. He knew if he did, she would feel terrible about it and try to console him when that was the last thing she should do right now. “I should not have let myself be manipulated.”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his shirt, and he was acutely aware that she was not apologising for the first time tonight, and he just wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her.

Instead, he kept holding her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “You have nothing to apologise for. None of this – _none of this_, Rachel – is your fault.”

“Yes, it is.” Her voice was muffled by the damp fabric of his shirt. “I should have never asked you to come.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “I _said_, it’s not your fault. Do I need to use my professor voice?”

She snorted inelegantly and pulled back a little to look at him. Black streaks of mascara still stained her face, but she was smiling when she spoke. “You’re such an idiot.”

“At least you’re laughing,” he said, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. “But I mean it, Rachel. Don’t blame yourself.”

She lowered her eyes but nodded. “Okay.”

Thomas let out another sigh, frustrated he couldn’t get her to see reason. But he knew trying to convince her tonight would be a fruitless endeavour, so when she placed her head on his chest again, he simply resumed stroking her back soothingly. “Okay.”

He held her in silence for a moment, and Rachel relaxed into his embrace. It was warm and soft and comforting and everything she needed right now. _He_ was everything she needed right now. And she was so, _so_ relieved he wasn’t pushing her away. Until a yawn escaped her, and though she tried to stifle it, he heard.

“Are you tired?” he asked softly. He would have loved to hold her in his arms much longer, but after the day she’d had, she deserved some rest. “Do you need me to drive you back to campus?”

Her heart sank at the suggestion. _He doesn’t want you here._

“Could I… could I stay?” she asked quietly, looking up at him. “Please?”

“Of course,” he said, the words coming out a little breathless. She wanted to stay. Here. With him. She _wanted_ to stay. “Anything you need.”

A frown overtook her features, and she shook her head. “I don’t want you to let me stay because you feel like you have to. I want you to want me to stay.”

Thomas cursed under his breath. Why did everything he said have to come out wrong? Of course he wanted her to stay! How could she have thought otherwise?

He gently cupped her face with his hands, making sure she would look at him when he spoke. “I _do_ want you to stay. I will _always_ want you to stay.” He wasn’t sure he could ever find the right words but it didn’t matter because, _fuck_, he loved this woman, and he would be damned if he didn’t at least try. “But what I want most is to give you whatever you need. Whether that means holding you close or giving you space.”

“I told you what I need,” she said quietly before leaning up to brush his lips with hers hesitantly. “Kiss me, Thomas. And don’t let go.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. Her lips burnt against his, salty from her tears, but he didn’t let that stop him. He pulled her close and kissed her urgently, pouring in every ounce of his love for her. “I won’t. Not until you ask me to.”

“What if I never ask?” she whispered almost timidly.

He smiled against her lips, his heart nearly leaping out of his chest because there was nothing in the world he would have liked more than to hold her for all of eternity. “Then I’ll never let go.”


	16. Change of Plans

“Why in God’s name would you set your alarm to four in the morning?” Rachel groaned when she leaned over him to turn the damn thing off. She hated its old-school ringing sound with a passion, and even more so when it woke her up so early.

Thomas wrapped his arm around her again once she lay back down next to him and murmured, “Must have been a mistake.” He didn’t remember even setting an alarm at all. Waking up had been the furthest thing from their minds when they’d gone to bed last night.

They both realised at the same time. Their trip. His flight. “Oh.”

Rachel propped herself up on one elbow, absentmindedly tracing her fingers over his chest. “So… are we still doing London?”

_Of course!_ he wanted to say. But she was looking at him with such uncertainty, and he wondered if that meant it wasn’t what she wanted anymore. “Do you still want to go?”

“More than anything else in the world,” she admitted, laying her head down on his chest again. She could hear his heartbeat, and it made her smile when she realised how fast it was. “I want to be far, far away from here.”

He pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head, his own smile hidden in her hair. “Then we’re still going.”

“Good. That’s good,” Rachel whispered. Then she sighed and lifted her head off his chest again. “I guess that means you’ve got to get going.”

Thomas looked at her worriedly. He didn’t want to leave her alone. Not now. Not ever, really, but especially not after the events of the day before. “Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

_Absolutely not_, she thought.

But she wasn’t about to worry him any more, and she really did want this trip to work out. So she nodded. “Mhm.”

He studied her for a little while, and she lowered her eyes. She couldn’t possibly keep up the act much longer if he was going to keep looking at her.

That was all it took for him to make his decision. “To hell with it. We’ll fly out together.”

“We can’t,” she said, her eyes snapping back up to meet his. Had he already forgotten why separate flights were absolutely crucial for them? That was rather unlike him. He usually was much more careful. “Someone will see us and then…”

He let out a chuckle. “Not on a commercial flight, Rachel. I’ll charter a jet.”

“Oh.” She furrowed her brows. “Isn’t that, like, super expensive?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “I think I’ll be able to afford it. Award-winning director and all, remember?”

“But—”

He smiled at her and pulled her towards him, into a gentle kiss. “No buts. Let me do this.”

“I don’t want you to spend any more money because of me,” she said quietly, pulling away. “I don’t want you to feel like… like I’m using you.”

Of course. Of course she would worry about that. That was exactly why he would have rather kept what her mother had told him a secret. “It’s not just because of you,” he argued. “I don’t feel like leaving this bed yet.” He leaned up to kiss her once more, pulling her flush against him. “_That’s _why I’m doing it.”

“Mhm… I don’t know,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

He leaned forward again but she moved further back with a little wicked grin, not allowing him to confuse her with another one of his thought-stealing kisses. He let out a frustrated sigh. “Please, Rachel. I know you don’t want us to be on separate flights.”

She really, _really_ didn’t. And she also didn’t want him to leave yet. “Fine,” she conceded. “But I’m paying for dinner tonight.”

“Deal,” he said and captured her lips in a kiss again. “Do you want to have breakfast?”

“I thought you said something about staying in bed?” she said and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. “Let’s stay in bed a little while longer.”

A low moan escaped him when Rachel rocked her hips against his. “Yes. Let’s.”


	17. Everything I Love About You

It was a perfect day – a morning in bed with Thomas, fancy champagne on a private jet, and cheap Chinese take-out in a ludicrously expensive hotel room. But still, as Rachel lay in the ridiculously soft bed, her head on Thomas’ chest, she couldn’t help but think of the day before. One question in particular was still plaguing her, and after keeping it in for so long, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Why did you believe her?”

“Hm?” he asked, his fingers running circles over her bare back mindlessly. “What do you mean?”

She moved to sit up. “My mother. Why did you believe her?”

“Rachel, don’t…” he said, but she was already sitting, hands folded across her chest. Thomas stared for a little too long – her arms didn’t cover much of her breasts – but eventually pulled his gaze away and up to her face.

Normally, she would have revelled in the fact that he appeared to have a hard time tearing his eyes away, but tonight, she just wanted an answer. She’d waited long enough, she thought, remembering that he’d never given her one the night before. He’d assured her he knew that she wouldn’t ever take advantage of his status and wealth, and he’d apologised for doubting her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still hurt. And, if she was being completely honest, a little offended.

Her voice was quiet, and nowhere near as strong as she’d hoped it would be, when she spoke again. “Do you really think so little of me?”

“That’s… that’s not… it never had anything to do with what I thought of _you_.”

“Don’t lie to me.” She shook her head. “You’ve believed it once before.”

He cringed, remembering that time after the masquerade, when he’d thought she was trying to seduce him in order to get through her disciplinary hearing unscathed. “Things were different then,” he said, voice cracking. “I didn’t know you.”

“Clearly, you still don’t,” she said. Then she sighed. “I just want to understand. I want to know what I did wrong.”

Thomas sat up, putting both hands on her cheeks to make her look at him. “Nothing. _You_ did nothing wrong.”

“Then why—”

He shook his head. “It’s about _me_, Rachel. It was _my_ insecurities that clouded my judgement.”

She knitted her brows in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Just… just look at you,” he breathed, running his hands down her sides. “You’re perfect. And that’s not something that should bother me, but I can’t help but wonder… why me? Why would you ever choose me?” He sighed and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “But that’s not something you need to concern yourself with. I’m—”

Her eyes narrowed, and she pushed him back onto the bed not-so-gently. “Yes, it _is_.”

“What—”

His words caught in his throat when she climbed on top of him and placed her hands firmly against his chest. “If it interferes with our relationship, then I _do_ need to concern myself with it.”

“Rachel, I—”

She cut him off with a kiss, angry and passionate. Her hand searched for his and, once found, grasped it tightly as she continued kissing him fiercely. Eventually, she pulled away, her teeth pulling on his bottom lip gently as she did.

Thomas looked up at her with his mouth slightly agape, breathing heavily. “What was that for?”

“This,” she said as she pressed his hand to her chest. “Do you feel this?” Her heart was beating so fast and loud that she was sure he could not only feel but also hear it. “Only _you_ can do this to me, Thomas.” She moved his hand lower, slipping it into her panties so he could feel her wetness. “_That’s_ all you, too.”

The moment she let go of his hand, he moved it up to his mouth, licking her juices off his fingers. “You taste divine.”

“Nuh-uh,” she said, shaking her head with a bit of a grin. “You’re not making this about me. I’m going to show _you_ just how much I want _you_.”

He inhaled sharply when she brought her lips to his neck. “I don’t need you to—”

She pulled some of his skin between her teeth, pinching lightly, to shut him up. Then she smoothed over the little dents with her tongue and placed another kiss on the area before coming up again, looking at Thomas with fondness in her eyes. “You don’t think I feel the same way sometimes?”

“What?” She couldn’t possibly. Not when she had dozens of her classmates as well as a handful of big Hollywood players lining up for her.

Her lips came down on his again before she moved them along his jaw. “You’re _Thomas Hunt_,” she whispered against his skin. “Actor, model, award-winning director, multi-millionaire…” She kissed her way down his neck to his chest. “Not to mention, number 33 on Starlet’s Sexy 100.”

“I’m sure you’ll be on that ridiculous list soon enough,” he said, rolling his eyes.

She frowned at him and pinched his nipple, making him jump. “My point is,” she said once she had his attention, “I constantly feel like you’re way out of my league. And you are.”

Thomas was quick to protest. “I’m not—”

“But it doesn’t _matter_. Because you _love_ me. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m younger, or that I’m a so-called rising star or whatnot.” She shook her head. “Just like my reasons for loving you have absolutely nothing to do with any of the things that I just mentioned. I couldn’t care less about your status or your prestige or your money or…” She cocked her head to one side. “Well, it _does_ help that you’re hot.”

He let out a soft chuckle at that last statement, but his heart had never felt so full. It was strangely comforting to hear that she had somehow overcome her – completely unwarranted and ridiculous – doubts. Perhaps he could, too. He didn’t quite know how to express all that, though, and instead he joked, “So you love me because you think I’m attractive?”

“You _are_ attractive,” she mumbled as she placed another kiss on his chest before lifting her head to look at him. “But you know damn well that I love you for _who you are_.”

“I suppose I do,” he said with a smile. “I may not understand why, but that’s what everyone always says about love, is it not? It doesn’t have to make sense.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow and leaned down to brush her lips against his. “It doesn’t. But maybe I can shed some light on some of my reasons.”

“Oh?” he said, voice lower and huskier already. He leaned up to kiss her but she retreated, always leaving just a hair’s breadth of space between them. “Do tell.”

“Mhm,” she hummed against his lips. “You’re really quite needy, aren’t you?”

“Only for you,” he said, taking her by surprise when he tangled a hand in her hair and yanked her down to him, his lips capturing hers in a hungry kiss. “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.”

She grinned as she slipped out of his grasp, looking down at the absolutely perfect man underneath her, wondering how he could ever believe _he_ wasn’t worthy of _her_. She ran her hands down his chest, scratching lightly with her fingernails, and was rewarded with one of those low growls she loved so much. Her grin widened and she leaned down to kiss his neck again softly. “I love everything about you, Thomas.”

“I imagined you’d be a bit more specific,” he said, half-moaning as she blew hot air onto his neck. “Did you not pay attention when we discussed the importance of specificity last semester?”

Her flat palm slapped his chest gently. “I’m not done yet, jerk.”

Thomas was going to give her some kind of witty retort, but her mouth closed around the spot where his neck connected with his shoulder, and all coherent thoughts were banished from his mind. “_Fuck_.”

“That’s more like it,” she murmured triumphantly. “I love it when you swear like that.”

Her lips moved over his collarbone, leaving gentle kisses along the way, and his mind got further and further away from him. “You do?” he said through laboured breathing.

She ignored his question, placing a kiss on his chest. “I love the way you hold me whenever I need you to.” Her lips moved a little lower, then softly pressed against his skin again. “I love how much you care about your work – your passion for film as a director, your concern for your students as a professor.” Another kiss. “I love that you remember every little thing I say even if you’d never admit it.” She went on like that, leaving a trail of kisses down his chest and stomach and telling him all the little things that made her love him in between, until she reached the waistband of his boxers.

“Rachel,” he moaned when she pulled his underwear down, her hands grazing his length.

She smirked. “Oh, and I love the way my name sounds from your lips when you say it like that. I want to hear it again.”

With that, she wrapped her lips around his hard cock, and he moaned her name again. And again and again as she sucked him off, taking as much of him in as she could and using her hand to work the difference. Soon enough, he was gripping the sheets, and she found herself hungry for his cum.

But his hands went into her hair again, pulling her head off his length with some effort. “No,” he breathed. “I want to be inside you, Rachel. I _need_ to be inside you.”

She grinned at him, contemplating for a moment to ignore his request and simply continue, but she _was_ already sopping wet, and she really, _really_ wanted him. She always did. The grin never leaving her face, she scooted up to kiss him. “I think that can be arranged.”

The moment the words had left her mouth, Thomas flipped them over, taking the smirk right off her face and putting it on his. “Good,” he said and lowered himself onto her, both of them moaning as his cock disappeared inside her inch by inch until it was fully enveloped in her warmth. “And, just so you know, it’s my turn now.”

“Your turn?” she asked breathlessly.

“Yes, my turn,” he half-said, half-moaned as he slowly slid out of her. “I love everything about you, Rachel.” He slammed himself back in, and she cried out in pleasure. “I love how persistent you are when you want something – or someone.” He thrust into her again, and her eyes widened when she realised what he was doing.

“Thomas, you don’t need to— _fuck_!”

He’d lifted her hips off the mattress slightly, now hitting that spot inside her that drove her crazy with every thrust. “I love that you see right through me even when I don’t want you to.” Another thrust. “I love the way you smile when you think nobody is watching.” He moved one of his hands to her back, pressing her body flush against his. “I love your ability to make even _me_ laugh in the most inappropriate of situations.”

And so he kept telling her all the things he loved about her with every thrust until they collapsed in each other’s arms; sweaty, breathless, and – above all – happy.


	18. Delayed

“Merry Christmas Eve Eve Eve,” Rachel whispered when they woke in the morning and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

Thomas opened his eyes for a second, then, shaking his head, closed them again. “I’m going to pretend that those were not the first words you said to me today.”

“Why not?” Rachel chuckled, and he turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised. “It’s the day before the day before Christmas Eve. Therefore, it’s—”

“Since when are you so excited about Christmas?” he asked. “Or the days before Christmas.”

She smiled at him. “Since I’m spending it with you, dummy.”

“Oh,” he said, and a smile of his own tugged at the corners of his mouth. “In that case…” He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him. “Got any special plans for _Christmas Eve Eve Eve_?”

Her lips brushed his lightly, and she could feel his breath become a little uneven. She suppressed another chuckle, knowing he would not be pleased with her in just a matter of seconds. “Actually, I do.”

And with that, she climbed off him and out of the bed. Thomas frowned. “Come back to bed.”

“Not a chance,” she said and shook her head with a grin. “I have a really fun day planned for us.”

He looked at her doubtfully. “Why do I feel like our definitions of fun don’t quite match up?”

“Because _you_ don’t even know what fun _is_,” Rachel said and turned around to walk to the bathroom.

But as soon as she stood with her back to him, Thomas climbed out of bed and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “I _do_ know what fun is,” he said and moved one arm to the bend of her knees, making her squeal in surprise when he picked her up. “Let me show you just how much _fun_ I can be.”

“Thomas!” she protested but placed her arms around his shoulders nonetheless as he carried her to the bathroom. He managed to both open the door and close it behind them with one hand before he set her down on the soft plush rug. He was breathing heavily when Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and got on her tiptoes to kiss him. “Don’t wear yourself out, old man.”

His arms went around her waist, pulling her close to him. “Nowhere near worn out, my dear,” he growled before once again pressing his lips to hers hungrily.

“I’m not giving up my plans,” Rachel said breathlessly between kisses.

Thomas smiled against her lips as they blindly stumbled towards the shower. “I’m not asking you to. We’ll just delay them a little.”

“I think I can live with that,” she said as she felt her back bump into the wall, the stone tiles cold against her naked skin.

And, suddenly, Rachel no longer felt all that bad about the amount of money Thomas was spending on this trip – because staying in an expensive luxury hotel also meant having spacious showers, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to complain about that.


	19. Ice Skating

“You look absolutely ridiculous,” Thomas said with a shake of his head, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face no matter how hard he tried. Despite the kitschiness of her red and white reindeer-patterned scarf, and the equally as atrocious matching hat, she looked nothing short of perfect. But who was he if he didn’t tease her about her non-existent fashion sense?

Rachel rolled her eyes at him, holding out a gloved hand. “You’ll _wish_ you had all these cosy clothes in a bit.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he chuckled as he pulled the knot of his own scarf – grey, sophisticated – tighter, then reached for her hand as they stepped out of the hotel lobby and into the cold. “Let’s get going. Where are we headed first?”

She grinned mischievously as she began walking, pulling him with her. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Thomas groaned but followed her nonetheless. Though he wasn’t particularly fond of surprises – he preferred to be prepared – hers tended to be pleasant ones. If only because he loved every moment with her, no matter where they were or what they were doing.

* * *

“Ice skating?” he asked as he followed Rachel to the ticket booth by the very festively decorated ice rink. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her plans would be, but this certainly hadn’t been it.

She turned to him with a small smile on her lips. “Yes, ice skating. I used to love it as a kid. Even took lessons for a few years.”

“I’m assuming that means you’re proficient in it?” Thomas asked cautiously.

She shrugged. “I suppose so. Not sure I can still spin like I used to, but…” Her eyes widened with realisation after a moment. “Wait a second. Did I find something _I_ can do but the great Thomas Hunt can’t?”

He buried his hands in the pockets of his coat and murmured. “I’m sure it won’t be that hard.”

“Oh, you’re in for a surprise,” Rachel chuckled and went to purchase their tickets.

* * *

Thomas had been wrong. It _was_ that hard – and Rachel revelled in seeing him struggle for once. It appeared that, contrary to popular belief, there were in fact things that Thomas Hunt couldn’t do. And she’d discovered one of them. Though she had no doubt in her mind that it wouldn’t take him long to learn.

“I can’t believe you’ve never done this before,” she said as she effortlessly skated up to him, who – instead of being the epitome of elegance as he usually was – was holding onto the railing for dear life, trying not to fall flat onto his face.

“I _have_ been ice skating before,” he huffed as he turned his back to the barrier, never letting go of it, and leaned against it. “It has just been… a while.”

She chuckled and held out her hand for him to take. “Come on. You won’t learn if you keep to the sidelines.”

“Have you considered that I may not want to learn?” he asked. He looked much more graceful now that he was no longer moving but rather leaning against the railing nonchalantly. Though if one looked closely, his hand was still gripping it tightly. “I’m content just watching.”

She looked at him expectantly, not showing any inclination to drop her hand – or the subject. But Thomas was just as stubborn – if not more – and made no move to take her hand. They stood like that, neither of them willing to back down, for a long moment.

Eventually, Rachel sighed and looked away. “I’m sorry. This was a stupid idea. If I’d known you’d hate it… I guess we should go.”

“No,” he said sternly. He wasn’t going to cut her fun short. One hand still on the railing, he looped his other arm around her waist, pulling her close. “I never said I hated it.”

“But you do,” she said with a disappointed frown.

He shook his head, gingerly letting go of the railing and lifting his hand to Rachel’s cheek. The black leather of his gloves was warm against her cold skin. “I don’t. _I told you_, I’m content just watching. You’re still mesmerising.”

“I don’t want you to just watch,” she sighed, leaning into his hand. “I want to skate with you. I’m not asking you to twirl around with me or anything crazy.”

Truth was, had he been by himself, he would have certainly tried. He wasn’t one to shy away from a challenge, after all. And, had he never tried new things, he would have never become the man he was today. But he _wasn’t_ alone – she was there, willing to teach him. And _that _was the problem. Ironically enough, Thomas _hated_ being taught.

But what he hated more was seeing Rachel upset, so he let out an exasperated sigh and placed his hand in hers. “Very well. Let’s go skate.”

Her face lit up and she leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. He would have certainly fallen over had he not reacted quick enough and reached for the railing behind him in time.

“Sorry,” she said with a little giggle that almost made up for her ambush on its own. “I guess we should wait with the advanced tricks until you can, you know, stand on the ice without falling and stuff.”

He shook his head at her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Good call.”

And then she pulled him away from the safety of the railing he’d grown accustomed to and onto the open ice, her hand grasping his tightly.

* * *

Of course, Hunt had been a bit of a drama queen. What had taken Rachel weeks to learn back when she’d first started skating took him less than half an hour, despite his insistence that he was _‘too old for this’_. She’d expected as much, though, since he appeared to have a natural talent for just about everything.

* * *

He was dancing with her. The bastard was actually _dancing_ with her. While on the ice. Granted, he did the bare minimum, and mostly stood as he twirled her around, but for someone who’d made such a big deal about not even wanting to attempt skating, he sure looked graceful.

“Of course you’d be good at this,” Rachel murmured when she came into his arms again after he’d spun her out.

Thomas let out a soft chuckle and pulled her closer, leaning down to kiss her gently. “I’m nowhere near as skilful as you are, my dear.”

“Yeah, but you’ve only been on the ice for a few hours. It’s not fair,” she grumbled against his lips. “I should have just let you watch.”

“You should have,” he said and kissed her again. Once his lips released hers, he pressed their foreheads together – or, rather, his forehead against the soft wool of her hat – and smiled fondly at her. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

He held her for a while longer, forgetting all about their surroundings, until another skater ripped them out of their perfect moment as he grazed Rachel, throwing her off balance. She fell and Thomas – not quite as steady on his skates as they’d thought – was pulled down with her.

The ice was hard – and not to mention cold – but, somehow, Rachel still laughed. He looked over at her sceptically. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she said as she easily got back up again. “You?”

Thomas nodded, then attempted to get up but struggled and, eventually, failed. He let out a frustrated sigh, followed by a quiet laugh. “It appears I have _not_ perfected the art of ice skating yet.”

“Good,” she said with a grin, then held out her hand. “Come on now, we wouldn’t want you to get your fingers cut off.”

His eyes widened as he took her hand, letting her help him up. “Is that… something that happens often?”

“I’ve never _seen_ it happen,” she said, looping her arm through his. “But, you know, there’s stories. I’d rather not risk it.”

He shuddered at the thought and made a mental note to add ice skating – no matter how enjoyable experiencing it with Rachel may have been – to the list of dangerous activities that were to be avoided if possible. Though he didn’t doubt he’d agree without hesitation if she ever asked him to join her again. He looked over at her – cheeks rosy from the cold but a wide smile never leaving her lips – and wondered whether seeing her so happy would be worth losing a finger over. She looked up, that smile now directed at him, and he found that he would sacrifice much more than a few limbs to see it never fade.


	20. A Hot, Relaxing Bath (Part 1)

Thomas finished buttoning up his shirt and glanced at the dress Rachel had picked out for tonight. It didn’t look like much draped over the backrest of the sofa, but he knew he would be unable to take his eyes off her once she put it on. Though, if one were to ask him, it didn’t matter what she wore – she always looked stunning. His eyes flitted to the bathroom door, behind which she was presumably still lying in the bathtub. The thought itself had his pants feeling tight, and he shook his head, focussing his attention on getting dressed. _“A hot, relaxing bath after a long day in the cold,”_ she’d told him. He wasn’t going to disturb her.

Then again, she’d been in there for a while now, and they did have dinner reservations at ten. Perhaps he ought to check on her. He walked over to the bathroom door, lifting his hand to knock but stopped when he heard familiar noises. He held his breath for a moment, going very quiet to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. But, sure enough, she was in there, _moaning._ He couldn’t stop himself from opening the door then – careful not to make a sound – and stepping into the room.

His breath caught when he saw her. There she was, lying in the bathtub with her head thrown back and her legs spread wide, pleasuring herself. Thomas knew he should have left or at least announced his presence, but the sight of her touching herself was so utterly mesmerising – so unbelievably hot – that he couldn’t bring himself to do anything but watch.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, there was a voice, nagging at him. _Why did she feel the need to take matters into her own hands when he was right there? Had he not satisfied her?_

And then he heard it, a soft whimper of his name, igniting a fire inside of him. Because even though it wasn’t him touching her, even though he wasn’t physically getting her off, it was still the thought of _him_ that would make her come. Though, judging by the furrowing of her brows and her frustrated groan, she appeared to be having some difficulty getting there.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Thomas removed his cufflinks and dropped them onto the counter. As the metal hit the marble surface with a loud _clink_, Rachel’s eyes snapped open.

Her cheeks flushed and she immediately removed her hand from between her legs. “Thomas!”

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, his voice huskier and far less controlled than he would have liked it to sound, as he stepped towards the bathtub.

Rachel’s blush deepened. “Thomas…”

“Go on,” he said as he sat down on the edge of the tub, making sure he’d have a good view of her. “I want to see what you do when I’m not around.”

She swallowed, then nodded, and spread her legs as she lifted her hips out of the water, moving her hand back down again. Her fingers rubbed circles on her clit for a moment before she slipped two inside, letting out a soft moan that made Thomas’ cock twitch. He yearned to touch her, but not yet. First, he wanted to watch her. And watch her he did, with bated breath, as her movements became more frantic and her own breathing became ragged.

“Are you close?” he asked hoarsely.

She nodded, slipping her fingers out of her centre to focus her attention back on her clit, then let out a frustrated groan. “I… I can’t.”

He couldn’t help the smirk spreading on his face. “Let me help you then,” he said and rolled up his sleeves as he stood to kneel down next to her, leaning over the edge of the bathtub. “Would you like that?”

She nodded again, unable to speak, and he moved his hand between her legs. She was wet – not just from the water – and eager, her hips shifting to meet his touch. His smirk grew at her reaction, and he sank two fingers into her. She moaned loudly in response.

“Now tell me,” Thomas said, beginning to rub her clit with his thumb while his fingers plunged in and out of her. “Why did you feel the need to touch yourself when you have me right in the next room?”

No words left her mouth, only more moans as he applied more pressure.

“Answer me,” he said, curling his fingers, which earned him one of those delicious gasps he loved so much. “Isn’t this better than doing it yourself? Doesn’t this _feel_ better?”

Her arms flew out of the water, searching for something to hold on to as her pleasure reached unbearable heights, eventually finding his shirt and gripping it tightly. “Yes, Thomas,” she cried out. “Yes, this feels… oh God… _oh God_!” She pulled him closer by his shirt, burying her face against his chest as she came, the soaked fabric muffling her screams of ecstasy.

Thomas moved one hand into her hair and held her head to his chest as she continued rocking against his other hand, riding out her orgasm on his fingers. When she eventually stilled, he lowered her back into the tub, where he let her recover for only a moment as he removed his shirt, pants, and underwear.

“Scoot over,” he ordered and climbed into the tub with her once she’d made space for him. She was breathing heavily still, and he couldn’t help the sense of pride swelling up in his chest. _He’d_ done that. “Come here.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“I said, _come here_,” he repeated firmly. “I’m not done with you yet.”


	21. A Hot, Relaxing Bath (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Scoot over,” Thomas ordered and climbed into the tub with her once she’d made space for him. She was breathing heavily still, and he couldn’t help the sense of pride swelling up in his chest. He’d done that. “Come here.”
> 
> She looked at him questioningly.
> 
> “I said, come here,” he repeated firmly. “I’m not done with you yet.”

His demanding tone made Rachel’s stomach flip with anticipation. She knew this game well, and she knew how it would end – in unimaginable amounts of pleasure. Even more so when she played by her own rules instead of his.

“Hmm,” she hummed as she slid further away from him, backing up against the opposite end of the large bathtub. “Why don’t _you_ come over here?”

Thomas shot her a glare, accompanied by a warning, “Rachel.”

“Yes, Thomas?” she said with a grin and stretched out her legs, letting them rub against his.

She noticed her mistake too late – his hands had already gripped her legs – and a surprised yelp escaped her when he pulled her towards him, placing one of her legs on either side of him. “You’re just determined to be bad today, aren’t you?”

“You _like it_ when I’m bad,” she said as she slid closer, her pussy just barely grazing him. She was rewarded with a low growl and her grin widened.

“Go on then,” he said breathlessly as he gripped her hips with one hand, his cock with the other, tapping it against her entrance. “_Be bad_.” She bit her lip, giving a quick nod, and he slowly lowered her onto him. They both moaned loudly, and it took Thomas quite a bit of effort to continue speaking. “Show me – _ah_ – how bad you are.”

She didn’t need to be told twice, rolling her hips a couple times before beginning to bounce on top of him. She’d wanted to tease him some more, go slow, but he felt so good inside of her, filling her perfectly, that she soon found herself picking up the pace, chasing her second orgasm of the night.

“That’s right,” he panted. He was drawing close himself, and he was almost worried he wouldn’t last. “Ride me.” His hands reached up to palm her breasts, and she threw her head back as her movements became more and more frantic. “Get yourself off on my cock.”

It wasn’t long then, until his name fell from her lips in a hoarse shout, and he felt her walls pulsate. He lifted her off him in an instant. A few seconds more inside of her and he would have come as well, but he couldn’t have that. Not yet. As vast as his desire for her was, he still wanted to – _needed_ to – show her just how competent he was at satisfying her. As many times as he possibly could.

“Would you sit there for me?” he asked, though it was more command than question, as he pointed to the edge of the tub.

She nodded mutely and tried to pull herself up but failed. She was far too weak, her entire body trembling, but that in no way meant she didn’t want more. She still desperately craved him, and so she tried again.

Thomas quickly realised her struggles, and his hands were on her hips again, picking her up. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice more tender than it had been before, as he gently set her down on the edge of the bathtub. She nodded again.

_Perfect_, he thought as he gazed at her naked form, covered only by sporadic traces of bath foam. _She’s perfect_. Another flood of desire washed over him, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her back down and just pound into her, but he had other plans first.

“Spread your legs, darling,” he coaxed, and she did as he told him. He smiled approvingly at her. “Yes, just like that.”

“Thomas,” she murmured as his head moved between her legs, his breath hot on her centre. She ached for him to touch her, but she wasn’t sure she could even _have_ another orgasm. “I don’t know if I can again.”

He looked up at her – she was squirming, her body begging for him to go on. No, he didn’t doubt she could. “Yes, you can,” he said definitively, then ran his tongue through her folds once, earning him a shudder along with a soft moan. “You _will_.”

Of course, he was right. Her hips jerked forward to meet his mouth as his tongue swirled and pressed and flicked against her, and she could feel the knot in her stomach form again. Immeasurable amounts of pleasure cascaded over her when his hands dug into her hips, trying to hold her still as he continued working her to her third climax.

And with a deliberate flick of his tongue, she was _there_, her fingers tangling in his hair as her thighs squeezed his head between them. He didn’t move – only holding her legs apart slightly – until he had lapped up every last drop of her.

_Three times_, she thought with astonishment as she looked at Thomas between her legs. His gaze snapped up eventually, their eyes meeting, and she immediately knew he intended to make it four.

His arms wrapped around her and pulled her back into the tub, onto his lap. He was still hard, she realised as her leg brushed his cock, and she shivered with anticipation.

“I’d like to be inside you again,” he said, voice low and raspy. He couldn’t wait any longer – he felt he would explode from the unbearable heat inside him. He needed her, and he needed her _now_. “Can you handle that?”

Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she nodded eagerly. “_Please_.”

That one word, in that frenzied sort of tone, had him losing his mind. His hands found her hips again, though he didn’t need to do much guiding at all. Rachel had already wrapped her own hand around his hard cock, stroking it once, before sliding onto him.

Thomas’ fingers dug into her skin and he let out a low moan because, God, she was _so damn tight_. He was not going to last long, that much he knew. Then again, neither was she, still sensitive from her past orgasms.

Her hands found his shoulders, holding onto them, as a whimper escaped her lips. “Thomas, _please_.”

His grip on her tightened even more as he drew out of her almost entirely, then shoved himself back into her again, hard. He didn’t bother trying to go slow, knowing full well that neither of them wanted to, but instead surrendered himself to his carnal desires and began thrusting up into her mercilessly.

A loud gasp fell from her lips when he found that spot inside her, and after hitting it again with a few more thrusts, she came, the noises she made loud and downright pornographic. His own release followed right after, the relentless convulsing of her walls around his cock too much for him to handle, as he came inside her almost violently. She collapsed against him, her body going limp for a moment, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, holding her to his chest.

He leaned back against the end of the tub, hands rubbing up and down Rachel’s back. “Are you alright?”

She nodded and mumbled against his skin, “That was amazing.”

Thomas hummed. He certainly wasn’t going to disagree.

“Why’d you change your mind, though?”

His brows furrowed. “Change my mind?”

She turned her head to look up at him. “Yeah. I thought you weren’t, you know, feeling up to it.”

Realisation washed over him when he thought back to Rachel informing him she wanted to take a hot bath and relax. In retrospect, she’d lingered by the door a little too long for it not to have been an invitation. He let out a groan, followed by a chuckle. “And here I thought I hadn’t satisfied you.”

“Thomas,” she said softly, placing one hand on his cheek. “I have _never_ been as satisfied as I am with you. _Ever_.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Good.”

“Dear lord, I’m feeding your ego again, aren’t I?” Rachel laughed, shaking her head slightly, as she leaned up to kiss him. His ego wasn’t unwarranted, though. He had, after all, just made her come four times in a row.


	22. A Gift?

It was the third morning in a row that Thomas woke up with her in his arms. The third morning in a row that he had a smile on his lips instead of his usual frown when he opened his eyes. There would be six more such mornings before they’d be back home again. Back in their respective, _separate_ homes. He realised then that that was the last thing he wanted – he wished this vacation would never end. His mind was made up within seconds; he was going to get her a second gift. A selfish one, in a way, but one he _hoped_ she would enjoy nonetheless. Now, to figure out how he could keep Rachel from finding out…

She stirred next to him and mumbled something he couldn’t quite make out. He _did_ think, though, that he heard the words Christmas Eve Eve, and that was enough to prevent him from asking her to repeat.

“Good morning,” he whispered and pulled her closer to him, to which she let out a content sigh in response. “Any special plans for today?”

She opened her eyes slowly, a smile coming to her lips, when she saw Thomas’ face right in front of hers. “I don’t know…” Her lips met his in a tender kiss. “I was thinking we could just stay in today.”

“Mhhh, I do like the sound of that,” he said as he lifted one hand to her cheek, caressing her soft skin. “However, I’m afraid I will have to leave this bed sometime later. There’s… something I need to take care of.”

She nodded and hummed against his lips. “Okay.” Then, her eyes snapped open and she pulled back a little to look at him. “Wait. What could you possibly have to do _today_?”

“Business,” he lied – rather smoothly, he thought – and leaned in to kiss her again. “Nothing we need to concern ourselves with right now.”

But Rachel _did_ notice that he was being cagey. She made a mental note of it before succumbing to the gentle pleasure of his lips on hers, then on her neck, her shoulders, her chest… Thomas pulled out all the stops to distract her and make her forget her suspicions. She never did.

* * *

She didn’t ask him again what he was going to do or where he was going when he went out in the afternoon. He wasn’t going to tell her, anyway, and it wasn’t like she didn’t already know. There wasn’t much he could possibly be so secretive about so shortly before Christmas and, truth be told, Rachel thought it was rather adorable.

* * *

When Thomas came back a couple hours later, Rachel had moved from the bed to the sofa, where she’d passed the time watching hilariously cheesy Christmas movies. She turned off the TV once she heard the door open and called out, “Found me a nice little present, did you?”

“Yes, I did,” he said as he dropped his key card on a nearby table, then froze when he realised his mistake. He turned to her. “How did you know?”

She chuckled as she got up and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “No need to be embarrassed, Tommy Boy,” she said as she got on her tiptoes to greet him with a kiss. “We’ve all been there. It’s _so_ hard to remember all these different occasions that call for gifts. Birthdays, Christmas, anniversaries… so complicated.”

“I did _not_ forget,” Thomas huffed. “I simply thought of an additional gift that I thought you would enjoy greatly.”

She frowned. “That’s not fair. I only got _one_ for you. You can’t just get another one without telling me! Now I have to go out and get another one for you as well.”

“No,” he said as he placed his hands on her hips to keep her from moving away. “This one is for both of us.”

Rachel furrowed her brows, then blushed. “Oh. Is it, like, a sexy present?”

“I’m not telling you any more,” he said and pressed his lips to hers again. “I’ve already said too much. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

She mumbled something about him being a terrible boyfriend – a notion he immediately challenged when he took her to bed.


	23. An Invitation

“I’m going to kill him,” Thomas said determinedly as he threw his phone on the bed in frustration. It nearly hit Rachel, who had been asleep until a few minutes ago but was now sitting up, in the chest. She let out a surprised yelp when she ducked out of the way, making him wheel around and stare at her in shock. “You’re awake.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Not by choice. You were _yelling_ at someone. That sort of thing tends to wake people up, you know?”

“I’m sorry,” Thomas sighed as he sat down on the edge of the bed. He should have kept his cool. But how could he have when his perfect plans for the day had just been ruined?

He’d wanted to give her the Christmas Eve experience she deserved. He was going to take her out to a romantic dinner, and perhaps take her dancing after, but not for too long. By the time they’d return to the hotel, there would be a Christmas tree waiting for them in their room that they could decorate together. Once finished, they would be cuddling under the tree, drinking hot chocolate – the recipe she loved so much with lots of cinnamon and unholy amounts of marshmallows, and waiting for midnight to come around. And the moment the clock would strike twelve, he’d give her his first present. She’d love it, and she’d give him his which he was sure he would love as well, and then it would be time for him to give her the second. The one he’d wanted to give her since the moment he’d got it for her. The one he was far more nervous – and even more excited – about than he was willing to admit.

But now, those plans had been shot to hell. All because that bastard couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut.

“What’s wrong, Thomas?” Rachel asked as she moved up behind him, placing her hands on his bare shoulders to knead them gently.

He let out another sigh, then slumped forward, burying his head in his hands. “Everything is ruined.”

“What do you mean?” She did her best to hide the panic in her voice but failed rather miserably. There was one thing, and one thing only, she could imagine that would have him react this way – someone had to have found out. “Who were you talking to just now?”

Her fingers continued moving over his shoulders, pressing deeper into his skin, and he felt himself relax a little under her touch. “Andrew knows I’m in town, and if _he_ knows, _everybody_ knows.”

“Who’s Andrew?” she asked. But there was an even more important question to be asked. “And how does he know?”

Thomas groaned inwardly. It was so easy to forget that she wasn’t – not yet, anyway – a part of this world he’d spent most of his adult life in. She did not yet know his acquaintances and rivals, his friends, and his enemies. He wasn’t sure, though, which category Andrew may have belonged it. “An old… colleague from my modelling days,” he said cautiously, then turned to her, seeing the worried look on his face. He immediately realised what his vague, ominous answers must have made her believe. “We haven’t been seen together. Ryan’s talked to him and let it slip that I’m here. And, believe me, he’ll pay for that.”

“Oh, thank God,” Rachel said, beyond relieved. Her brows furrowed. “So the problem is… that we can’t go outside because you’re worried about paparazzi knowing you’re here and looking for you? That’s… not ideal, but we’ll survive.”

Yes, that was _part_ of the problem. Thomas nodded. “That is something I’m worried about.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s more.”

“It’s nothing.” He got up from the bed abruptly, startling her, and began pacing around the room. “I’ll deal with it. You don’t need to worry.”

Rachel huffed as she got up from the bed, the duvet falling off her completely and revealing her fully naked body, and walked over to stand in front of him. “Talk to me. We both know keeping secrets never does either of us any favours.”

“It doesn’t _matter_,” he reiterated, shaking his head. “I’m not going.”

Her hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb stroking his stubbled skin softly. “Going _where,_ Thomas? Please.”

He sighed, leaning into her touch. He didn’t want her to worry. More importantly, he didn’t want her to say what he knew she would – that he should just go. That he didn’t have to stay with her, that she’d find a way to entertain herself while he was gone. But she was right, lying to her had never gone over well for him. And he didn’t _want_ to lie to her. “His annual Christmas Eve ball.” He put his own hand over hers. “I already said no.”

“But you want to go,” she stated matter-of-factly. There wasn’t a hint of the disappointment he knew she felt to be heard in her voice.

He shook his head. “I _don’t_.”

“Then you feel like you have to.” She smiled, and though Thomas knew it wasn’t entirely genuine, it looked like it was._ Damn her and her acting abilities._ “It’s okay.”

He felt her try to pull her hand away, and he gripped it tighter, keeping it pressed to his cheek as he leaned down to kiss her. “I’m not going. End of discussion.”

It would come back to bite him in the ass, he knew it would. There would be speculation as to why he hadn’t attended despite being in the country – because Thomas _always_ went, if only for an hour or less – but it didn’t matter. He was _not_ leaving Rachel alone. Not today. Not ever, really.

“Okay,” she whispered against his lips before kissing him again. She slipped her hand out from underneath his and moved it down his neck, over his shoulder and chest, before snaking it around him and pulling him close. His own hands followed suit, caressing as much of her naked skin as he could reach. “Maybe we should—”

They were interrupted by a song that Thomas recognised as Rachel’s incredibly annoying ringtone. “Don’t answer it,” he breathed before taking her lips in another fiery kiss. Whoever it was would simply have to wait.

She chuckled against his lips, then put her hands on his shoulders to push him away a little. “Since it seems we’re going to have to stay in all day, anyway, I’m sure we’ll have more than enough time for this _after_ I take this call.”

Thomas mumbled something about murdering the person who had dared to interrupt them, unaware that it was the exact same person whose life he’d threatened to take earlier already.

“Ryan’s calling me,” Rachel said, dumbfounded, as she looked at the caller ID on her display.

“Put it on speaker,” Thomas commanded.

She pressed answer, then did as he told her. “Hey… uh… what’s up?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how mad is Tommy right now?” Ryan’s voice came through the speakers.

“Try eleven,” Thomas answered, earning a glare from Rachel.

There was a moment of silence on the other end before Ryan spoke again. “I… should have expected that he’d be right there with you.”

“You should have,” Thomas said and, despite her protests, took the phone from Rachel. “And you should have also known better than to tell Andrew that I’m here!”

“I’m _sorry_. He invited me to his stupid ball, and then he somehow asked about you, and it just slipped out,” Ryan said exasperatedly. “But I’ll be there soon, and I—"

Rachel cut in again, her brows furrowed. “You’re coming to London?”

“I already _am_ in London,” he said. “That’s why I’m calling. I want to… make things up to you.”

Thomas huffed. “And how would you do that?”

“By taking Rachel to the ball, obviously,” he said.

“Excuse me?” Thomas snapped then. How dare he! “You want to take _my_ girlfriend out and call that _making it up to me_? As soon as I find out where you’re staying, I’ll—”

He was interrupted by Rachel’s hand touching his arm softly. “He may have a point. Give me the phone.”

“I will not—”

“Give me the phone, Thomas,” she repeated firmly. He sighed, then handed it to her.

He’d expected her to stay where she was, but she didn’t, turning off speakerphone as she walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. Thomas went to follow her, but she’d actually locked the bloody door. Fuming, he returned to the bed and let himself sink into the sea of pillows and blankets as he waited for Rachel to return.

By the time she did, he’d calmed down – if only a little bit. “I hope you told him to never call you again.”

She let out a soft chuckle and shook her head. “No. Now, get up, you have a ball to get ready for.”

“I told you, I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” she said with a mischievous grin. “And so am I.”

He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Thomas, he told me how important this thing is. It may not be what either of us thought we’d be doing tonight, but… when has anything ever gone as planned with us?”

Thomas let out an exasperated sigh. “We can’t be seen together. You _know_ we can’t.”

“That’s why I’m going with Ryan. Everyone will think I came with him.”

He gritted his teeth. It was reckless. Dangerous, even. But he thought back to the masquerade over a year ago, and he remembered how happy she had seemed – before he’d revealed he knew who she was, anyway – and he groaned in defeat. It appeared he was going to take her dancing after all. “Very well. But you better not leave me for Summers, Rachel.”


	24. Yes.

Rachel took a deep breath and smoothed down her dress one last time before turning to her date. She gave him a quick nod, and he slipped his arm through hers as they walked into the lavish ballroom. Multiple heads turned to look at them, and Rachel found herself wishing that she could have stepped through these doors on Thomas’ arm instead of Ryan’s. And not just because his presence alone would calm her, take her mind off the many people staring, but also because she wished she could show the entire world how happy and in love she was with this man. She wanted the world to know that he was hers, as she was his.

_One day_, she told herself. One day, Thomas would be the one publicly by her side. One day, they wouldn’t have to hide anymore. She had to believe that. She _had to_.

“Chin up. Smile,” Ryan whispered in her direction as he put on his signature million-watt smile. “They’ll be printing these pictures tomorrow, and Thomas is never going to forgive me if he hears you complain about how bad you look in them.”

It earned him a genuine laugh from her, which certainly helped when she put on a smile of her own as they walked further into the ballroom. She wasn’t looking forward to the speculation that was sure to follow her appearance at such an event with Ryan Summers, but at least he was pleasant company. “Have I already thanked you for doing this?”

“Only about a dozen times,” he said, then added something about how she really didn’t need to thank him, but Rachel wasn’t listening anymore. She’d spotted Hunt, standing alone by the bar. Ryan noticed she wasn’t paying attention when she didn’t answer his last question, and his gaze followed hers. He suppressed a chuckle and said, “Right. Come on, let’s go say hi to _my_ good friend. That we’re definitely going to be talking to because _I_ want to. Think you can spare some evil glares for him to really sell it?” She shot _him_ one of those glares, and he threw his hands up defensively before guiding her through the crowd to the bar.

Thomas had turned his attention back to his Scotch again, wondering when she would arrive. It had been nearly half an hour now, and though he _knew_ they couldn’t come at the same time for obvious reasons, he wished they had. More than that, he wished they could have arrived _together_. With her as his official date. It was curious, really, he had never minded attending these events by himself – preferred it, even, as that allowed him to leave earlier – but now… now _she_ was in the picture. And she made all the difference.

“You look like you could use some company.”

He forced down the smile that was beginning to tug at his lips upon hearing her voice – and these words, at that! – and suppressed the urge to immediately turn to her. “Depends on whose company it is.”

“You’re in luck,” she said with a wide grin, delighted that he’d not only remembered but was willing to play along, “It’s mine.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re going to try to re-enact the entirety of that night,” he said and finally turned around. Despite his attempts to cover it up with a scowl, there was a hint of a smile on his lips. “Because if I remember cor—”

His words caught in his throat when he saw her. It was ridiculous how easily she still took his breath away. Even after all these months – after seeing her dressed up, dressed down, and even undressed many times – she still managed to catch him off guard with her beauty.

She blushed some at his reaction but caught herself rather quickly. “Cat got your tongue, Professor?” Her blush returned – and intensified – when she remembered the last time she’d called him that. That day in his office…

By the looks of it, Thomas remembered, too. Vividly. He cleared his throat. “This was a terrible idea.”

“Do I… _want_ to know what’s happening here?” Ryan cut in, reminding them of his presence.

“Nothing,” they said almost simultaneously.

He raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any further questions. “Well, I’m sorry to cut this conversation short, but I believe it’s customary for me to have my date’s first dance. Unless… you’d like to…”

Rachel looked up at Thomas with wide eyes, almost pleading. And he so desperately wanted to give in. He wanted to hold her in his arms while they danced, but he knew that he would certainly give them away. He couldn’t risk it. “No, you two go ahead. I’ll be right here, waiting for you to return.” He leaned in a little closer to whisper in her ear, “Don’t let me wait too long.”

She almost kissed him then, his face so close already, but caught herself before she could. Her cheeks flushed. “Yes, well… I… we’ll be back soon.”

* * *

“You two are unbearable,” Ryan said amusedly as he placed one hand in Rachel’s and the other on her waist. “How can anyone stand to be around you?”

She sighed. “You’re kind of the only one who is… we can’t exactly… go out in public that often.”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologised as he led her into the first few steps. “I was just kidding.”

Rachel forced a smile. “I know.”

* * *

While Rachel was off dancing with Ryan, Andrew had found Hunt by the bar. He’d watched him for a while before approaching him, and then some more as he stood next to him. The director’s eyes were following a particular couple’s every move, and Andrew thought then that he knew why he had looked even more grumpy than usual.

Thomas, on the other hand, hadn’t noticed him until he spoke. “She’s a pretty one, isn’t she?”

He turned to his former friend with a start. Though he, of course, knew very well who Andrew was referring to, he asked, “Which one?”

“Summers’ date, of course,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. “You were talking to them earlier, were you not? And let’s not forget that you were just _staring_ at her.”

Thomas stifled a cough. “I wasn’t staring at anyone.”

“Mhm, if you say so.” Andrew nodded to a bartender, who immediately came over and filled their glasses with more Scotch. “Well, either way, I’m glad you came.”

Thomas huffed. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”

“You _could_ have said no.” Andrew took a sip of his drink, taking his time as he looked over the large crowd, then turned to Hunt. His gaze had found the young woman in red again. “Do you know her?”

For a moment, he contemplated lying. But Rachel had begun making a name for herself, and if there was one thing he knew about Andrew, it was that he always made a point of keeping up with new up-and-comers – even those thousands of miles away. “Yes.”

“She seems rather young.” Andrew looked over at Hunt to gauge his reaction. There was none. Only that stone-cold scowl he’d always worn. “She a student of yours?”

Thomas let out an exasperated sigh.

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

Another sigh. Then, “Yes, she’s a student.”

“Looks like you’ve got more balls than I gave you credit for.” Andrew studied Hunt’s face for a moment. He was surprisingly composed, not giving anything away. “Or perhaps I was just wrong.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Thomas downed his drink and straightened his suit jacket. He knew Andrew well enough to know that he wouldn’t stop digging until he found what he was looking for. And this time, there actually _was_ something to be found. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a donation to make.”

Andrew watched Hunt walk away, contemplating his eagerness to escape the conversation. He’d never been the most talkative at these events so it could have been just that. Or he’d struck a nerve. Perhaps he would have to talk to young Miss Fields to find out more. He couldn’t say he found the thought unpleasant.

* * *

When Ryan and Rachel returned to the bar, Thomas wasn’t there anymore. Panic rose in her chest as she looked around, scanning the crowd, and couldn’t find him. He wouldn’t have just left without saying something, would he? She turned to Ryan, who seemed similarly concerned.

“You stay here. I’m going to check the men’s room,” he offered. She nodded, and he disappeared into the crowd.

With a sigh, she turned to the bartender and ordered a drink. If she was going to wait here anyway, she may as well have something to calm her nerves.

“Rachel Fields?” someone said from the side, startling her.

Who could possibly know who she was? She looked up and was met with an unfamiliar man. “Yes?”

“I’m Andrew Haynes,” he said with a charming smile and extended a hand. “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She reluctantly shook his hand. “Ah, yes. It’s… good to meet you.” She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m actually looking – well, more like waiting – for someone so—”

“Hunt, right?” Andrew asked, his smile turning into more of a smirk.

She froze. “W-what?”

“Thomas Hunt? Arrogant little bastard, but rather handsome. If it weren’t for that frown he wears all the time,” he joked and she nearly laughed. “He’s your professor, is he not? Not to mention your boyfriend’s friend.”

“Ryan’s not my boyfriend,” Rachel blurted out without thinking. _Shit._

Andrew considered her words for a moment before holding out his hand again. “Then I assume you’re free to dance with whomever you’d like?”

“As I told you, I’m—”

“One dance. Come on, it’s a _ball_,” he argued. “I’m sure they’ll understand.”

She glanced around, looking for any sign of Thomas, but he was still nowhere to be found. _Fine_, she thought. If he could just disappear like that, she could join his friend for a dance. She killed her drink, then took Andrew’s hand. “Sure.”

“Excellent,” he said as he led her to the dancefloor. He took one of her hands in his and placed his other one on the small of her back – just above the neckline of her dress. She jumped a little at the contact. “Everything all right?”

“Just a bit ticklish,” she said with what she hoped was a pleasant smile. “Maybe you could move your hand down just a little.” Andrew raised an eyebrow at her and she felt her cheeks flush. “Not… quite that far down.”

He let out a laugh but did as she’d asked, placing his hand over the fabric of her dress rather than on her bare skin, and they began dancing. “These types of events are new for you, aren’t they?”

“Am I that obvious?” she asked, slightly embarrassed. She _did_ feel a little out of place, after all.

“I didn’t mean it as an insult,” he assured her. “And I’m sure you’ll know your way around in no time. You were in that film with Chris Winters recently, weren’t you? And there’s talk of a sequel.”

She furrowed her brows. She’d been informed that there was a possibility of a sequel being filmed a few weeks ago, but that sure as hell wasn’t public knowledge yet. Especially since neither she nor Chris had agreed to it yet. “How do you know about that?”

“I make it my business to know these things,” he explained. Then, lowering his voice, he added, “I know a lot of things, Miss Fields.”

Rachel wasn’t naïve enough to wonder what he was talking about. But she also wasn’t stupid enough to let him know that. She purposefully widened her eyes, feigning curiosity. “Such as? Please, you must tell me more!”

He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to figure her out. She seemed genuinely interested, though, rather than guilty. Perhaps he _had_ misinterpreted the situation, after all. “Where to even begin? Have you heard about Victoria Fontaine’s latest escapades?”

She listened to all the gossip he had to offer – though he, of course, claimed that it was nothing but the truth – as they continued to dance, hoping he wouldn’t bring up what she was afraid he’d implied earlier. He didn’t – not once, not even in a concealed manner. Maybe she was just overly paranoid.

* * *

“Oh, thank God,” Ryan murmured to himself once he found Hunt and tapped him on the shoulder. “I was almost worried you’d left.”

Thomas turned around, his scowl deeper than before. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you were not where you said you’d be,” Ryan explained. “I think your girlfriend’s a little disappointed.”

_Shit_. He’d completely forgotten that he’d promised Rachel he’d wait for her by the bar – but, surely, she’d understand once he explained. “Where is she?”

“Probably on her second or third drink, not gonna lie,” Ryan joked and looked over to where he thought she’d be standing.

Thomas’ gaze followed his. She wasn’t there. His eyes narrowed as he turned back to his friend. “_Where_ is Rachel, Ryan?”

“Relax, Hunt. She’s probably just been asked to dance.”

He gritted his teeth. It sure wasn’t unlikely. Hell, had he not known her, even he – infamous for not dancing at these events – would have asked her to dance. But he would have hoped she’d turn everyone else down. Then again, this was a ball, and if he couldn’t be the one dancing with her, of course she’d find someone else. He’d just hoped that someone else would exclusively be Ryan. Him, he trusted – to a degree. “Let’s find her.”

“I think I already have,” Ryan said when he saw a flash of red. He made sure, though, to look away quickly so Thomas wouldn’t see. She was dancing with Andrew Haynes, and if there was one thing he knew, it was that Hunt would not react positively to that. “I’m going to go get her. Be back in a bit.”

With that, Ryan made his way to the dance floor, and though Thomas’ eyes tried to follow him, they soon lost him in the crowd. He sighed resignedly and returned to the bar.

* * *

The last song they’d been dancing to had ended, yet Andrew had made no move to leave. He’d asked for one dance, and this was their fourth or fifth. But Rachel didn’t want to be disrespectful – he _was_ the host, after all, and he seemed decent company. Though a little annoying, listening to him was still better than waiting by herself.

Fortunately for her, she neither had to say anything nor dance with him another time, as Ryan appeared behind him, clearing his throat. “Ahem. I believe it’s time for me to reclaim my date.”

Andrew turned around with a bright smile. “Summers! Good to see you. It’s been too long.”

“It has,” Ryan agreed. He motioned to Rachel. “But maybe you could give me and _my date_ a moment? I think you’ve had her attention for long enough.”

With a laugh, Andrew let go of her and let Ryan take his place. “No need to be jealous, Summers,” he said, then turned to Rachel with a smile. “I hope to see you again, Miss Fields. It was a pleasure dancing with you.”

Rachel returned his smile half-heartedly and thanked him for the dance before turning her attention to Ryan, who was looking at her worriedly. Her stomach sank. “Everything all right? Did you find Thomas?”

“I did,” Ryan said absentmindedly as he led her into a Waltz. “Do you know who you were just dancing with?”

She nodded. “Yeah, Andrew Haynes. He asked me to dance, and since neither you nor Thomas were around to keep me company—”

“You’re lucky Thomas didn’t see you two.” He tilted his head to the side. “Actually, _he’s _lucky Thomas didn’t see you two.”

Her brows furrowed. “I thought he was your friend.”

“He _is_,” Ryan said and pressed his lips together tightly. He’d always liked Andrew – he’d been one of Thomas’ _actually_ fun friends – but he’d never fully forgiven him for what he’d done in the past. It may not have had to do with him, but he’d seen the way it had affected his friend, and he resented him for it. “But you wouldn’t be the first woman Haynes has stolen away from Hunt.”

Rachel’s eyes widened and she tightened her grip on him. “I would _never_.”

“I know that,” Ryan assured her with a faint smile. “_Thomas_ knows that. But that doesn’t mean it won’t hurt him.”

She lowered her eyes. “I didn’t… I should… shit.”

“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know – and even if you did…” Ryan shook his head. “Let’s go back.”

He tried to slip out of her grip but she didn’t let him. “No. We’ll finish this dance, and you’ll tell me everything.”

Surprisingly enough, Ryan found himself inclined to do as she said. _No wonder Thomas is so taken with her_, he thought. Despite her being, well, a tiny young woman, she was almost as intimidating as Hunt was. Except, of course, she possessed a lot more charm than he did.

* * *

Thomas hadn’t planned on ordering another drink – in fact, he’d hoped they’d be returning to the hotel soon – but when Ryan still hadn’t brought Rachel back to him, he found himself ordering another glass of Scotch. And just as he did, someone sat down on the stool next to him.

“Long time no see, Hunt,” he said roguishly.

“Go away, Andrew,” Thomas said and lifted his glass to his lips. “I have neither the time nor the inclination to deal with you.”

The other man laughed. “Oh, that’s all right. I just wanted to congratulate you.”

“Congratulate me on _what_?” he asked suspiciously, finally turning to look at Andrew.

“On your restraint of course,” the model replied with a wicked grin that made Thomas’ stomach churn. “God, if that woman was my student, I’d have bent her over a desk and taken her every which way a long time ago.”

His grip on his glass tightened and he was almost afraid it would burst. He did his best to keep his voice calm though he wasn’t sure whether or not he’d succeeded. “It’s a good thing, then, that you’re not a teacher. That is vile.”

“You’re right, I’m not,” Andrew said and nodded thoughtfully. “I’m going to ask her to dance with me again. And then maybe I’ll ask her to come home with me.”

Thomas was seeing red then. Not just because this bastard was talking about taking _his_ girlfriend to bed, but more so because of one little word in that whole sentence. “_Again?_”

“Oh, yes,” he taunted. “We danced earlier. I think four times? She’s _very_ lovely. And, God, those tits. Have you seen her tits? Of course you have. Just… man, I can’t wait to cum all over them.”

Thomas’ fist came down on the wooden surface of the bar, hard. “Enough!”

A few heads turned, then immediately looked away upon realising who had spoken. Andrew just smirked knowingly at Thomas. “So I wasn’t wrong.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Thomas replied, trying to calm his voice.

Andrew’s smug expression remained firmly on his face. “You’re fucking your student. Thomas Hunt is fucking his student. That is… that is something.”

“I am _not_,” he insisted. He knew he’d already given himself away, but he wasn’t going to admit to anything. Deny, deny, deny – maybe he’d believe it eventually. Perhaps add a little threat. “And you would do well not to spread such baseless accusations.”

Andrew hummed in response. “Hmm… very well. Then I’m sure you won’t mind if I _do_ dance with her again.”

“She _is_ my student,” Thomas said and got up from his stool, leaning over to Andrew threateningly. “And that means it’s my job to protect her. I will _not_ let you anywhere near her.”

He didn’t give him a chance to respond as he turned on his heel and made his way to the dance floor. He was nowhere near calm enough to be speaking to her, but it didn’t matter. He was going to find her, and he was going to get her as far away from here as possible.

* * *

She was dancing with Ryan when he found her, and he didn’t even bother saying anything before grabbing her by her arm and pulling her away from the dance floor. She protested, quietly so as to make as little of a scene as possible, but he wouldn’t listen. He didn’t stop until he’d led her out onto a private balcony and closed the door behind them.

The cool night air was refreshing but did little to calm him down. The moment he knew they were alone, he spun her around and pushed her against the wall, the sandstone cold against her half-bare back. His lips were on hers in an instant, his hands on her hips as he pressed himself close against her.

“Thomas!” she gasped in surprise but was shut up when his mouth covered hers again hungrily.

She put her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him away gently, but he was relentless. A low growl escaped his throat. “You’re mine.”

“Thomas,” she repeated firmly, still trying – but failing – to keep him at a distance. “_Stop_.”

The word was like cold water splashed in his face and he reeled back, shocked by his own behaviour. “Oh God,” he said, running his hand through his hair as he turned away, his back to her. “Rachel, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”

She came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder calmingly. “It’s okay. You just… surprised me is all.” She moved around him until she was standing right in front of him, lifting a hand to cradle his face. “What’s wrong, Thomas?”

“I’m… you…” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “You danced with him.”

Her heart sunk. She didn’t know how he knew but, frankly, it didn’t matter. Maybe Ryan had been wrong and he had seen them, maybe someone had told him, but the fact was that he knew, and it had – predictably – hurt him. “I didn’t know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” She wrapped her arms around him tightly, comfortingly. “I’m not like her, Thomas. I’m not going to leave you.”

“I know you won’t.” He shook his head slightly. “But I… I’ve had to watch you dance with Ryan all evening. And I trust him, I do, but… do you have any idea how hard it is to watch you in the arms of another man? With his hands all over you?” His voice cracked ever so slightly. “And then I find out you danced with Andrew. I—” His voice failed him then, and he pulled her closer.

He didn’t need to speak. She knew. She knew, and she felt the same way. He’d wanted to be the one holding her and twirling her around on the dance floor. And she would have loved nothing more. “Let’s head back to the hotel. This was a terrible idea.”

“I _did_ tell you that,” he attempted to joke with a weak smile.

She chuckled lightly before leaning up to give him a soft kiss. “And, as per usual, you were right. Come on. Let’s find Ryan and blow this joint.”

* * *

“Um… Thomas?” Rachel questioned when she opened the door to their hotel room. “Why is there a Christmas tree in here?”

It took him a moment to realise he’d never actually cancelled the tree, or the order of ornaments. He smiled softly as he took Rachel’s hand and led her into the room. “Because I did have plans for tonight. With you.” He gestured to the boxes that lay next to the tree. “Would you decorate this tree with me?”

Her mouth fell open and if he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn here eyes were glistening a bit. “You… you want to…”

“I wanted to give you the Christmas you’ve always dreamed of,” he said and wrapped his arms around her as he leaned down to kiss her tenderly. “It may not have been ideal so far, but… maybe we can fix that?”

She smiled against his lips. “I’d like that.”

* * *

As they decorated the tree together, Thomas found himself wishing it could always be like this. Just the two of them, being happy together, without worrying about anyone or anything.

“What do you think?” Rachel asked after placing the final bauble on the tree, admiring their work.

He smiled, looking at her more than at the tree, and said, “I think it’s perfect.”

“God, you’re cheesy,” she said with a roll of her eyes, but she was beaming, and she looked beautiful.

She was also still wearing her dress from earlier, and Thomas got an idea. An impulsive, completely ridiculous idea, but it didn’t matter with her. He walked over to the TV and put on a song he thought seemed acceptable before returning to her. She looked at him questioningly and he took her hand, lifting it to his lips to place a kiss there. “Would you dance with me, Rachel?” He was suddenly nervous again, wondering if she’d think it was too cliché. “Please? We didn’t get to at the ball, and I know it won’t be the same, but—”

She nodded eagerly. “Of course I want to dance.”

And so they did, and he could almost imagine that they weren’t in their hotel but rather back at the ball because, in truth, it didn’t matter. When he danced with her, there was only him and her and no one else. It was just them, in their own little perfect world, and he wished their dance would never end. When it eventually did, though, he lifted her hand to his lips again.

She didn’t notice that, this time, he placed his kiss more deliberately than the last – right on that one finger that looked almost painfully bare to him. _One day_, he vowed. One day, he would get her the biggest diamond he could find and make her his wife. One day…

But for now… for now this would have to be enough. His heart picked up speed when he remembered his gift, and he suddenly found himself eager to give it to her. His eyes flitted to the clock on the wall – there were still a few minutes until midnight. He took his two gifts out of his suitcase and placed them under the tree and Rachel followed suit. Though she only had one, and she still felt like that was a little unfair.

Then they waited. It was ridiculous, truly, but somehow it seemed right. And when the clock struck twelve, Thomas handed her his first gift.

It was in no way special enough for her, but he wasn’t sure any material gift could ever be. Still, she smiled when she opened it, and her eyes sparkled with joy, and then she asked him to help her put it on.

He was quick to comply, placing the chain around her neck and clasping it in the back. The little crescent-shaped pendant rested perfectly between her collarbones. She admired it in the mirror for a moment before turning back to the tree and retrieving her present for him.

Thomas gingerly peeled off the wrapping paper and opened the small box to discover that it held a pair of silver cufflinks. It would have seemed an unfeeling gift until he turned them around and saw the engraving. His brows furrowed. “Masquerade masks?”

She smiled sheepishly at him. “It was the night you told me you despised me.”

“I’m sor—”

“I knew what you really meant,” she said, shaking her head amusedly. Then, her voice turned genuine. “It was also the night I realised that I am not getting over you.”

He wasn’t sure what to say – that night held so many regrets, but she was right, it had been similarly enlightening for him – so he pulled her close and kissed her fiercely, whispering his thanks against her lips.

And then it was time for his final gift. His hands shook when he picked it up and gave it to her. He hadn’t had the time to wrap it, so she simply had to lift the lid – which she did.

She looked up at him in confusion. “A key? What is it for?”

“It’s—” He choked, nearly unable to form the words. “It’s a key to my house.”

“Why would you—”

Thomas held up a hand, shushing her. “If our… if our circumstances were different, Rachel, I would be asking you to move in with me.” He sighed wistfully. “I know that we can’t. And I don’t even know if you’d be ready for it, but…” His voice grew quieter and she had to strain her ears to hear. “I don’t want to wake up alone anymore. I don’t want to come back to an empty house after work, hoping you’ll be free in the evening.” He took a deep breath. “If you think it’s too much, too soon… I’d still like for you to keep it. Use it as you please.”

Her eyes had filled with tears as words escaped her. She wanted to make a joke about how much nicer his shower was, or how she’d prefer having an actual kitchen for actual food around all the time, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “I’d… I’d like to live with you.”

He breathed a sigh of relief, then pulled back a little to look at her. “I know it won’t be ideal. We’ll have to… figure some things out, but…”

“We will,” she said and Thomas wondered if he’d ever seen her so happy. “We always do.”


End file.
